Legacy of Darkness, Bane of Light
by The Emerald Blight
Summary: My kind never belonged on that toxic planet. Its poisonous air and that cancerous tumor they called Magic. It should have killed me. Would have, had I not proved to be stronger. Found by one that had mastered forces beyond the scope of one tiny world and trained to be more. I have come to know my destiny. I am no mere Dark Jedi. I am the Darth of Darths.I. Am Sith'ari. SithHarry!
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-comminication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N: so this, with the exclusion of 'a Relict to Remember' which is still undergoing research and development, is the last of our projected stories to be released for your viewing pleasure. We are changing Harry Potter Canon so as far as the HP-verse is concerned this is severely AU. Fair warning, do not grow attached to anyone on this planet that is not Harry Potter. If you chose to do so regardless...well, I take no responsibility for your decision :D**

**read. REVIEW and if you are up to it, provide us with thoughts and feedback. We love those. Flames will be ignored without reservation along with us considering the flamer to be the biggest idiot since Jar-Jar Binks.**

Usually, when one looks to their own past; their childhood, they smile fondly with the remembrance of anecdotes of wide eyed enjoyment, laughter and love.

For one known as Harry Potter; he was one of the tragic few with little to smile about. In the years before he had found control over his own life he had nothing; growing up in that house of misery, and following that? Well he had far more important and grander things to concern himself with than fun.

That's to say he didn't enjoy himself. Far from it, he enjoyed himself immensely in spite of the dangerous locale. He had achieved feats that none before him could even hope to match with the time, resources and 'environmental concerns'.

Harry had achieved so much, more than he had hoped in his time on Earth. He had come so far and become so much.

But once, there was a time when he had none of those things.

A time when he had no achievements under his belt, no power to keep him strong and safe. Nothing.

Once, there was a time. When he was just…

XxxX

"FREAK!"

The stairs shook violently, dust cascading down to shower upon the sole, unfortunate occupant of the cupboard.

A resigned breath was released from the frail, six year old child that called that cramped, dusty hole he called his home.

Harry Potter, unwanted orphan, live in servant and declared 'freak of nature' eased himself to a seated position.

His eyes opened, staring at the 'ceiling' of his cupboard, ignoring the dust falling from it as Vernon stomped down the steps; most likely deliberately for this very effect. He didn't waste the effort to raise an arm to block the falling dust; simply turning his head to the side and closing his eyes as it hit him. He could not remember a room outside of this one. His bed had always been the moulded blanket that he was laying on with only a moth bitten sheet to cover him. His clothes, his toys, everything that he had to call his own were, well, practically non-existent. He couldn't even call the building he lived in his own home. It was not, it was the home of the Dursley's.

Their home. Not his. He was often reminded of this crucial difference.

It caused a small measure of resentment in the boy. He wanted to belong. A home. A family. While he could not see the familial connection he could feel some kind of connection between the members of the Dursley family. He wanted that. They would not give it to him.

And however well he hid it, buried the feeling beneath the veil of weakness and timidness, he hated them for it.

He rolled over to his stomach and pushed himself to his knees; chest heaving and lungs burning from the effort. It took a moment to regain his breath as he leaned against the door of his cupboard for stability. He had always been weak, frail. That his relatives refused to provide him with any real food of substance wasn't helping, but that aside he was small and sickly. He never seemed to be able to put on any weight, be it muscle or fat, instead growing to look more and more like some deathly pale imitation of a living human being. Skin and bones with a pale almost completely white complexion. His skin-tone had little to do with the overall health of his body and more to do with the fact that he saw very little natural sunlight if any at all. Any chores assigned to him that required going outside where he could be seen had been ruled to be done after dark; to lessen the risk of the neighbors catching sight of his unnaturalness.

His body jolted when the door he was leaning against shook; kicked harshly by Vernon as he stomped by. Forcing his body to move and enduring the lingering pain that he was still feeling, Harry fumbled for the latch and pushed the door open, crawling out of the cupboard and pulling himself to his feet by holding onto the door itself.

Dudley charged by as he found his feet, whining when he missed shoulder charging his feeble cousin when Harry allowed himself to stumble back and out of the way. The raven haired child afforded himself a tiny, near invisible smile at the tiny, meaningless victory over his whale of a cousin before he was roughly grabbed by the shirt and pulled bodily away from his cupboard.

"What took you so long Freak?! Stop day dreaming, your aunt has chores for you, I'll not have your freakishness wasting her time today. Understood?" Vernon snapped at him, his grip twisting at Harry's collar and tightening it against his throat.

Harry nodded silently. Not wasting time to bother to verbally reply to his uncle. Even on a good day it was hard to tell if him speaking; even in agreement, would placate Uncle Vernon or only serve to increase his anger. He had long since learned silence was safer.

Catching his breath from the ordeal with his uncle, Harry made his way into the living room and too the kitchen as quickly as his body would safely allow, ignoring the mocking laughter of Dudley he was limping around the living room in a parody of his own movements.

Aunt Petunia was already in the Kitchen collecting all the things needed to make the mornings breakfast by the time he made it there. The pan was already on the stove top heating up far too much oil for any health conscious individual to allow and several stacks of thick cut bacon were resting on a plate next to it.

"Your stool is waiting boy." Petunia said coldly as she glared at him out of the corner of her eye as she started on a fresh pot of coffee. "I'll not have you spoiling Vernon or Dudley's meal understood."

Harry nodded silently as he walked over to the stove, climbing up the steps to stand atop his stool. Petunia was not as cruel or sadistic as his uncle or cousin. But she was not kind. Aunt Petunia it seemed was the only one to acknowledge the fact that he was frail and sickly and allow some measure of patience in dealing with him. Beyond that she was harsh, without pity and unforgiving. She made no illusions or falsities in her detest for his existence.

Ignoring the still jeering noises from his cousin and the threatening growls of his uncle who seemed to be trying to glare a hole into the back of his head, Harry set to frying the veritable mountain of bacon.

While time wise it wasn't all that long for everything to be done and the men of the Dursley family to dig into the food like a couple of well dressed pigs. But for Harry it had felt like an age. His skin felt burned from the close proximity to the heat of the stove and his arms ached from the movements and positions he had been forced to hold them in while cooking.

His own breakfast consisted of thankfully a glass of water that was like the nectar of the gods for him at that point and a slice of plain bread.

From there the day proceeded as expected for him. Aunt Petunia gave him his list of chores. In two parts naturally; the first to be done during the day that consisted of household tasks ranging from polishing the floors and dusting to sorting and cleaning each of Dudley's broken toys in his second bedroom. Part two of the chores was the outside work that was meant to be done after dark. Mainly lawn maintenance and weeding Aunt Petunia's flower garden.

Dudley went to school much to his complaining while Vernon went to work, leaving Harry and Petunia behind at Number 4. As expected it took Harry all day to get the first part of his chores done. His body didn't allow for strenuous activity which meant Harry had to force himself to work through the agony of his lungs leaving and limbs feeling like they had shattered long ago. Without Vernon's presence Petunia's temperament improved toward him. She allowed him free access to water and allowed for, although not often, regular bathroom breaks.

The six year old finished the indoor portion of his chores roughly an hour following Dudley's return from school. The rotund Dursley child had lied to his mother about homework in favor of leaving the house to play with his friends affording Harry some measure of additional quiet. With the period that sat between his two portions of chore work, Harry returned to his cupboard to rest. Or at the very least, attempt to do so. The burn of his muscles, lungs and skin from the days work forced his mind away from rest in turn forcing Harry to lay there and endure his suffering as quietly as possible to avoid attention to his 'lazing'.

It was here in the darkness of his cupboard, in the haze of his pain and suffering that against all odds Harry found some measure of tranquillity in his life. In this state the harsh and tormented life of one Harry Potter didn't exist. Vernon and Dudley didn't exist. The cruelty of the world and his body didn't exist. There was only the throb and ache of his own existence.

'_It hurts….doesn't it._'

Harry's eyes snapped open as the door to his cupboard shook violently from a pounding fist.

"FREAK!" Vernon bellowed. "Get outside! you've chores to finish!"

The boy in question breathed out a silent sigh of frustration; the world in all its pitilessness flooding back to him.

Reaching to the side, he grabbed one of his most valued possessions. A simple cylindrical wooden block; formerly belonging to Dudley from when he had been a toddler, and shoved it into his mouth, biting down to smother his moans of pain as he forced his battered body back up.

Surprisingly, the list of chores to be completed outside in the darkness of night was Harry's favorite. The best part of his day. The chores themselves, not so much. They were more examples of work sadistically imposed upon him with the full knowledge that his body was not suited or built for the tasks in question. He hadn't the body strength to push the old, rusted manual push lawn lower Vernon had bought specifically for him to use under the claim 'so it wouldn't disturb the neighbors.' nor could he easily pull the weeds from Petunia's garden, or the height to dust, organise and clean Vernon's gardening shed.

But, regardless of all that, Harry still loved the night chores best of all. It was the nighttime sky that did it for him. That open field of black dotted with sparkling lights and the beautiful glow of the moon that provided him with his main source of light given Vernon's refusal to 'waste electricity leaving the porch lights on.'

It was for this reason, the night sky, and for this reason alone that Harry took as much time as he did to complete his chores. He endured through the suffering his feeble body was forced through with the work, tolerated the sharp pains and bouts of nausea that washed over him when his breathing would falter. All for the sake of being able to look up into the night sky just that little bit longer.

But as with all things, priorities and necessity trumps desire and want. The knowledge of await him in the day to come saw Harry complete his work and return to his little pocket of darkness and solitude. To rest and recover.

XxxX

There were no chores now. At the rate things were going, it would seem that for Harry, he would never have to endure another chore ever again.

As with the norm of his life, days blended together into weeks and then months. No day was any different or more important that the next. Or the next. The chores and tasks given to him to complete differed accordingly, but in the overall scheme of things, it was all more of the same.

And then, it changed.

He remembered overhearing Vernon boasting about it from within the confines of his cupboard during dinner. The 'breadwinner' as Vernon liked to call himself at times, had shoved him into his cupboard the moment he had finished plating up dinner; shouting at him that he 'wouldn't have his freakishness ruining their evening.'

That dinner Vernon had boasted and regaled his family with the story of his day at work and that he had been rewarded with a week long holiday at a company retreat in Italy. Vernon had spent most of the talk debasing the Italians as a people and scoffing at the very idea of stomaching their food and culture, but both he and Petunia were all for the opportunity it presented to indulge in their favorite activity; being better than everyone else.

And so, they went.

But not before Vernon, in all his gleeful sadism, locked the door to Harrys' cupboard. With the six year old in question still inside.

That had been two days ago.

Harry had tried to get out several times after Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had left. When he found the door locked from the outside he had tried to force it. He very nearly broke his shoulder in the attempt. He tried everything he could think of, regardless of what it would do to him in his condition.

In the end he passed out from the pain of his efforts.

After a day he tried to lose himself in his world of pain and the darkness of his cupboard.

After two. He realised, he was going to die.

'_Death is nothing to fear. __There is no weakness or shame in the end._'

Harry turned his head weakly to the side, staring into the darkness of his cupboard and toward where he heard, felt, the voice coming from.

'_But I must ask. Is this your choice? Do you wish for your death to come this day?_'

Blinking wearily, Harry saw the darkness shift and a soft glow take shape. Within moments the glow had properly formed into an appearance that had Harry faintly believing he was beginning to become delirious with hunger and weakness.

A man. Bald and clad in heavy robes and large to the height of imposing, it was impossible for someone of such a stature to be able to fit within the tiny confines of the cupboard but there he was, seated somehow a few feet from him as if meditating.

'_I have watched you, young one. You endure, you survive. I have witnessed the deaths of thousands of those like you who suffered but a fraction of the pain you have come to know and accept. Their deaths came swiftly yet painfully. But you, you have shown a capacity to endure your torment. That you still live despite this pustule of a world is itself remarkable. You have lived beyond that which you should. And for that, there is no shame in your death._'

Harry heard the words. He saw the ghost of the man who spoke them to him. Comforting in their meaning and yet delivered with an almost cold detachment. Was that it then? Was he dying? Was it really okay to finally...end?

And like a rush of fire, Harry's eyes narrowed and his teeth grit when his very being answered his doubt. **No.**

No. he couldn't die here. He didn't want it to end where it would mean that he had finally lost and the Dursley's had won. Even if he could live just long enough to meet his end far from his wretched relatives that would be enough. Better to die in a gutter than here.

'_Ah. Another that the countless others did not have that I see in you. Passion._' The Ghost commented with a faint smirk, leaning forward to lock his eyes onto Harry's own. 'Y_ou deny death. Is it fear? No, not fear. Hatred? No, not quite that either._'

The Ghost rose to his feet and approached the prone child, the blackness that surrounded him spreading as he drew closer to wash over and erase the muted surroundings of the cupboard. Reaching the frail and weak child, the Ghost crouched down, leaning over Harry like the very spectre of Death to peer at him closely before his eyes widened almost imperceptibly and the smirk on his face grew slightly larger.

'_Ah I see it. It is not fear or hatred that pushes your death away. It is defiance. You do not fear the inevitability of your end. You simply desire only to meet it of your own accord._'

Harry licked his lips and coughed, a futile effort to clear his throat. "Not here."

The Ghost raised a solitary eyebrow at the raspy, near silent voice of the child.

"I don't want to die here, because of _them._"

'_You wish to live?_'

Harry managed a nod, no longer with the strength to speak any further.

'_And if it should be only moments longer? To live now only to die later?_'

Harry simply shrugged. He was only six but he understood the truth of the matter. Everything ends.

'_Perhaps then, __you have what I and so many before me did not. Perhaps, you have what it takes to Live._'

'_Know my name then child. Know the name and face; of Bane._'

XxxXxxXxxX

_**side-note: We would like to point out that when 'darkness' has been referenced in this prologue it is not in connection to the Dark Side or Darkness in a power sense. It is quite literally the absence of fucking light. The darkness of his cupboard is because its god-damned dark in there!**_

**A/N: so this, with the exclusion of 'a Relict to Remember' which is still undergoing research and development, is the last of our projected stories to be released for your viewing pleasure. We are changing Harry Potter Canon so as far as the HP-verse is concerned this is severely AU. Fair warning, do not grow attached to anyone on this planet that is not Harry Potter. If you chose to do so regardless...well, I take no responsibility for your decision :D**

**read. REVIEW and if you are up to it, provide us with thoughts and feedback. We love those. Flames will be ignored without reservation along with us considering the flamer to be the biggest idiot since Jar-Jar Binks.**


	2. Strong or Weak

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-comminication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

"_I don't want to die here, because of them."_

'_You wish to live?'_

_Harry managed a nod, no longer with the strength to speak any further._

'_And if it should be only moments longer? To live now only to die later?'_

_Harry simply shrugged. He was only six but he understood the truth of the matter. Everything ends._

'_Perhaps then, you have what I and so many before me did not. Perhaps, you have what it takes to Live.'_

'_Know my name then child. Know the name and face; of Bane.'_

XxxXxxXxxX

Bane stared at the child before him, eyes unblinking and his mind fully open to see all that there was to see regarding the one that he had found after so long. He understood that the revelation of his name to this child would not be all that great. Even if this cancerous planet was open to the galaxy at large his name had long since slipped into obscurity as a result of the passage of time and the efforts of the Jedi.

So no it was not the reaction to his name that Bane was interested in with that knowledge that there would be none. It was instead the lack of reaction that the child _should _have shown based on the Force Ghost's experiences with the others that he had interacted with on this planet in the past as he searched. This child showed no fear like the others, nothing beyond the initial surprise of seeing the spectre in a room that should not be able to physically accommodate him.

"Bane..." The boy seemed to chew on the word for a moment, as if testing it with his voice as he peered up at the glowing blue apparition. "My...my name, is Harry. Harry Potter."

The Ghost nodded in acknowledgement of the introduction, shifting his position till he was seated on his knees before the six year old. "_Harry. It is a good name, one of the kings of this world._"

There was a glimmer of pride to flicker across the boys face at the compliment. Bane felt the pleasure pass through the child with the sense that it was the first time he had ever known a positive remark passed his way. The Ghost nodded in approval when that pride was brushed away and buried beneath other emotions that brought focus back to the here and now. It was impressive; that this child, this slave could show himself capable of avoiding such easy distraction.

"Y-You said that I could live?" Harry rasped out, his voice weak and faint. "Are...are you here to save me?"

Bane shook his head, his gaze turning hard. "_No. I will not save you. In life I had no time to save the weak and pitiful. That has not changed even now in death. If you wish to live, it must be you that challenges Fate._"

Harry blinked in confusion, not understanding the remark. The 'man' had just before had spoken as if he were willing to save him from this place. To free him so he could live. He felt a flash of anger pass through him as he registered the refusal. Was it a taunt? Had this ghost come to him to mock his death and dangle the prospect of living in front of him for its own amusement?

"If you w-won't save me." Harry coughed harshly, feeling his chest rattle and his ribs ache. "T-Then, why are you here?"

Bane simply stared at the child a moment longer. He felt the anger. How could he not? It was like a flare going off in this so very dark room. But he had seen brighter and more terrible flares in his existence in both life and death, it did not impress him. "_I will not save a creature that does not possess the will to save itself. Just as I will not fight a man's battles only for that man to die in war, I will not waste my time on saving you here only so you may go on to struggle and perish moments later._"

"_Hear me child. Remember these words; The Weak will always be victims. This, is the way of the universe. The Strong take what they want and the weak suffer at their hands._" Bane continued, commanding the attention of the weak and pathetic child. "_I once said these words to a student of mine in ages past. But what I never said to her was that while this universe is filled with the strong and the weak. It is left to the individual himself to decide who they are. So if you wish to live beyond this day. If you wish to see the outside of this pitiful cupboard and gaze upon the stars once more. Then you must decide. Are you weak? Or __are you __strong?_"

"But what then?" Harry asked, taking in the words of this spirit and considering them carefully. "Even if I do live beyond this day. What do I do for the next? Or the next after that?"

Bane nodded in approval. It was an intelligent assessment of his situation. That this child could see beyond his present and currently fatal situation to the dangers of the future was a good sign. "_Live beyond this day and you will have proven yourself strong. I will not tolerate nor waste my effort upon the weak, but the strong I will accept._"

Harry winced when he felt a starburst behind his eyes as a vision filled the forefront of his mind. A grassy hill; capped with a stone tower of some sort. The location burned its way into his mind with a name at the forefront '_Glastonbury Tor._'

"_Go to the place within your mind._" Bane instructed. "_Find the Legacy and prove yourself worthy of my time. Do this and I will show you a future beyond that of anything this marble could ever offer._"

"Y-you are a ghost yes?" Harry asked quietly. "Dead?"

Bane nodded.

"Did death take your sight from you? I'm locked here… in a room and don't even have the strength to s-sit up let alone break down a door to escape... this place."

The Force Ghost allowed an amused smirk to pass across his face at the fire within the boy. "_There is a power in living child. To understand this power you must suffer through hardship and struggle. You have done this but that understanding has been denied to you by the waste that is this world. I will open you to this understanding but it will not last. You will need to learn to access it yourself. I will not be there to do this for you._"

Harry let out a gasp, his lungs filling with air and his chest heaving as a strength he had never felt in his whole life flooded into his body, pouring into every part of his body and running across his very skin like a static shock. The vitality he felt was enough that when he heaved himself up, he was shocked to realise he had done so far quicker than ever before and he felt no fatigue from the action like the countless times before.

At the same time as his there was a loud _click_ from the door as the lock disengaged and the cupboard door swung opened an inch, allowing a waft of fresh air to seep into the tiny cupboard.

"_Right now you are weak. Powerless. What you fe__e__l now is but a fraction of the strength you truly possess but you do not own it. Reach your destination. Find the Legacy and prove to the both of us that you have the strength for what comes next._"

XxxX

The Ghost didn't stay after the cupboard door had opened. With one last penetrating stare at the wide eyed child Bane had faded away into nothingness, casting the cupboard and astonished Harry Potter back into the darkness.

Even with the spirit gone, Harry did not lose this feeling of strength that coursed through him, filling him. It lingered and gave the child the energy he needed to push open his cupboard door and crawl out. After climbing to his feet, for the first time in his life not having to grit his teeth through the waves of nausea and aching pain that such a movement would normally have invoked, a small corner of Harry's mind wondered if there was any real point in making the trip to wherever this place, this 'Glastonbury', was.

He was free. No longer locked within his coffin and stronger than he had ever felt before. He could feasibly go wherever he wanted. Why should he go to this distant place he knew nothing about on the instruction of something that technically was not even real?

It was a dark whisper that Harry immediately squashed. Distant or not, real or not, Harry remembered those final words Bane had imparted and understood them for what they were. This power? It might be his, but this access he had was temporary. It was not lasting and unless something was done, he would in time return to that frail dying child wasting away in the darkness of a cupboard.

So no. if he wanted to live. Not just through tomorrow, but all the days to follow. He _needed_ to find this Legacy.

Harry's familiarity with the Dursley Home aided him in gathering the essentials he felt he would need for the journey ahead. He didn't know how long it would take but what he did know was that when he did leave Number 4 Privet Drive, he would be out in the world with no knowledge of how long it would be until he was safe and with a home of his own.

Dudley's second bedroom had more than enough bags to chose from to take with him. The spoiled child seemed to take a fancy to three different ones a week depending on the design and what was popular on the Telly. A simple blue Thunderbirds backpack was his choice. It was suitably childish enough and appropriate for his age group that no-one would think to consider its contents. Filling it was a simple task. A raincoat in case the weather turned poorly and some of Dudley's cast offs with a trip to the kitchen to raid the pantry for food essentials and bottled water.

It was, odd in a sense, as Harry opened the front door and left Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time. Throughout his life he had grown accustomed to the fatigue and pain that daily life brought. What he had done since leaving his cupboard would have, should have left him hunched over heaving for air through aching lungs and yet, here, now, he felt fine.

As he closed the front door and walked down to the curb at the end of the driveway, Harry took in a deep breath, revelling in the crisp air as his lungs filled for what felt like the first time. And then, he stopped.

"Now what?"

Harry looked down either end of the street, unsure as where to go from here. He was only six years old and he had never seen the outside world beyond the limits of the Dursley lawn. He had no idea where this Glastonbury Tor was. Or even where he was relative to it.

It was instinct; a deep, unknown part of Harry that bubbled into his notice that urged the boy in a direction. The quiet yet insistent urge to turn left and walk down the street. He could not explain it, but to Harry, it almost felt as if the direction he had taken were familiar to him. As if he had taken it so many times before.

Despite his still present physical frailty that not even this new strength that filled him could take away, Harry left Privet Drive after a few short minutes. It was almost surprising to see the sheer number of houses and lengths of the street that connected to Privet Drive as he took another left to walk along this new street's pavement. Had the world always been this big?

It was this distraction, this wonder at seeing the brand new world that he had until now been unaware of, that lead Harry to the steps of a small brownstone pub. The lights were still on within but somehow Harry was able to sense that there was only a single occupant within; moving about the interior. Cleaning.

With a mental shrug, Harry pushed open the door; ignorant to the slight pulse that left his body and caused a faint _click_ to come from it as the door unlocked. Instinct, intuition and survival had aided him in living this long so it had long since proved to be trustworthy and worthy of being heeded. So Harry listened to it as he walked into the closed pub and up to the bar where the bartender was in the process of emptying and changing over trash bags.

Hearing his arrival, the barkeep looked up and blinked in surprise at seeing the tiny, frail looking child peering up at him from the edge of the bar counter. The man looked confused at first. He looked from Harry, over to the slowly closing door then back to Harry again. He could have sworn he had locked the door after the last customer had left for the night. So how had this little kid walked in?

"Hey kid. 'ow you get in here?"

Harry just looked up to the man, slightly unnerving him as the boy's emerald eyes seemed to brighten in the low light of the pub. "Who are you?"

"Eh? I'm Dick. Dick Davison." The now named Dick replied, still confused and now slightly unnerved slight echo to the voice of the child, as if two were speaking at the same time.

"What is this place Dick Davison?"

The Barkeep shivered at the voice and those eyes staring unblinkingly at him. Yet he still answered. "It's a pub kid."

"What's a pub?"

"Uh, it's where grown ups come to buy grown up drinks. Kids aren't really allowed here. Where are your parents? Should you be out this late?"

Harry stared at the man for a moment, tilting his head to the side as if pondering something. "Glastonbury. Where is it?"

Dick blinked. It was an odd response to his own questions. Was that where the kid was from? If that was the case then how in Gods name had he managed to wind up in suburban Surrey of all places? "Glastonbury is a place over in Somerset, a couple of hours west of here. That where you from kid?"

"How can I get there?"

A small part of Dick was growing more and more unnerved by the kid in front of him. He knew that the kid should not be here. He knew that he should have long since walked the kid back outside, maybe called someone to pick him up and find his parents. But, Dick couldn't do any of those things. He could not move from this kids gaze and could not help but answer his questions.

"Bus's won't be running this late. you'll need to get a cab." Dick replied. "Will cost a fair bit of quid to get there though."

Harry frowned in thought. Vernon was never shy about hounding on about money. It had been one of his most vocal things to rage about whenever he had made the mistake of angering his uncle.

"I need money then. Do you have money?" Harry asked, instincts and his Power still guiding him as he spoke to this grown up.

Dick nodded, sweat starting to bead his brow as a fear started to grow in him. Why couldn't he stop? "Haven't emptied the till yet so I still got the day's take."

"Can I have it?"

A vein throbbed at his temple as Dick nodded and walked over to the register, pressing a button to open the drawer where he pulled out the stacks of money and brought them back over to the counter to pile them in front of the boy.

Harry nodded, seemingly satisfied with the amount presented before him as he swung his backpack off of his back and unzipped it to shovel the pile of cash into the bag. It was curious that this grown up was being so helpful to him. Growing up in the Dursley home had taught him that grown ups were not so helpful and yet this Dick Davison had been nothing but. The Power perhaps?

With the last of the money in his bag, Harry swung the Thunderbirds bag back onto his back before returning his focus to the man, eyes locking onto his and idly noticing a drop of blood falling from the man's nose.

"I need a cab. Can you get one for me?"

Dick nodded again, his eyes shaking in his head as he turned to the phone and picked it up. A quick call and a car was booked to come and pick up the kid. It hurt. Everything hurt. He could feel a steadily growing headache coming upon him and an ache in his bones; like he was in the grip of something so much larger than himself.

"It'll be here shortly. Just out the front." Dick responded as he walked back over to the boy.

"Good." Harry nodded with a faint smile on his face. "You've been very helpful."

Harry turned and walked away from the bar, hearing a pained gasp come from Dick as he half collapsed against the counter the moment Harry broke eye contact with him. When he reached the door and pulled it open he turned his head to lock back onto the terrified bartender.

"Please, don't tell anyone I was here, Okay?"

XxxX

Harry woke with a start when the sound of a car door opening next to him broke through his consciousnesses and he jolted upright, clutching his bag tightly to look over to the face of the driver who was leaning down to look through the door to him.

"We here lad."

Harry rubbed the sleep away from his eyes as he looked past the driver to see the large hill that was Glastonbury Tor; black against the faint light of the rising sun.

he had fallen asleep shortly after the cab had picked him up in Little Winging and instructing the driver in where he wanted to go. The man had been reluctant to drive that far so late in the night with a six year old but a fifty pound note to grease the wheels as it were allowed the driver to put aside those concerns.

After the driver had started toward his destination; instructed to take Harry to Glastonbury Tor, Harry had succumbed to his own weariness; worn out from whatever he had done to convince Dick to help him.

Climbing out of the cab, Harry fished out a handful of notes to pay the man.

"Cheers lad. You want me to wait here?"

Harry looked up to the massive natural landmark before shaking his head. "No thank you. I won't be needing another ride."

The man seemed once more a bit reluctant to leave a six year old alone like this but in the end his own concerns won with his desire to clock off his shift and head home overcoming the desire to make sure this weird kid was alright. "If you say so."

Harry ignored the man, not even noticing as the cab door slammed shut and drove off. He was too busy focusing on the dwindling power that he could feel within him. Whatever that Ghost; Bane, had done to let him use whatever it was the spirit had claimed he had inside him was leaving. This 'window' that had been opened was closing.

Securing the bag to his back and tightening the straps, Harry ran across the road to the footpath that lead toward the massive hill. By the time he reached the foot of Glastonbury Tor the window to his Power was barely there, he could feel the weakness of his life creeping back into him. His bones were starting to ache again and his chest burned as he was starting to have to breath harder to get air into his lungs.

He was here. Bane had told him to go to Glastonbury Tor and he had done so. But where to now? Where was the Legacy he had been instructed to find? Spinning around, quickly becoming frantic, Harry tried to find a sign; some, any kind of hint that could aid him in figuring out where to go. Whatever instinct he had to help him before had dwindled far too much to be of any further help at this point and he couldn't feel anything beyond his own senses any longer.

Harry was forced to stop spinning around when he felt his right leg give out, a sharp burning pain piercing through the bone as he bit back a cry at the agony he felt. Shifting his weight to his other leg, Harry fought to keep himself upright. When he raised his head once more to look up to the hill that was now once more in front of him his eyes caught the silhouette of the tower at its summit.

Figuring that he could, at the very least, use the tower as a point from which to get a high ground look over the surrounding land and try and spot where to go from there, Harry hobbled forward, slowly, carefully ascending up the concrete path that wound its way up to the summit.

It took far too long to reach his destination. By the time Harry reached the Tower steps the window had closed and Harry was gasping for air. His vision was fading and his ears were filled with a white noise as he felt his body starting to fail. His right leg felt as if it was on fire from the strained muscles of his previous spinning and he felt as if one possibly more of his ribs had broken from just how heavily his chest was heaving as he fought for breath.

Stumbling forward, Harry fought his way up those last few steps and staggered across the small landing and into the interior of the Tower.

Unable to go any further Harry allowed gravity to finally win the fight against him as he sank to the ground, relishing the feel of the cool stone against his burning skin.

The last thing he felt, as darkness took him once more, was a faint rumble and a jolt as the stone floor beneath him started to lower.

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N**

**Alright then. So here is what we would consider the first official chapter to this story. Harry has reached the destination Bane has given him and passed what we suppose is the first of several tests the former Sith will have for the boy.**

**News regarding the schedule for story updates:**

**Given the popularity of Throne of Babylon we are taking it off of the reserve and putting it into the main roster; replacing this story; Legacy of Darkness, Bane of Light with it.**

**So as of next week the schedule is as follows:**

**Week 1 (next week): Never Alone.**

**Week 2: Zero Chakra Plan.**

**Week 3: Risen in Light, Fallen to Shadow**

**Week 4: Throne of Babylon.**

**Reserve/when there is time: Legacy of Darkness, Bane of Light.**

**This decision was made based on popularity statistics thus far regarding Throne and the other stories where we came to the decision that Throne was proving to be far too popular a story to have on the reserve.**

**As always;**

**Read, REVIEW! (_please for the love of Bane review!_), Follow, Fav, and tune in next time for our next updated story.**

**Cheers :D**


	3. What is Power?

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-communication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

_It took far too long to reach his destination. By the time Harry reached the Tower steps the window had closed and Harry was gasping for air. His vision was fading and his ears were filled with a white noise as he felt his body starting to fail. His right leg felt as if it was on fire from the strained muscles of his previous spinning and he felt as if one possibly more of his ribs had broken from just how heavily his chest was heaving as he fought for breath._

_Stumbling forward, Harry fought his way up those last few steps and staggered across the small landing and into the interior of the Tower._

_Unable to go any further Harry allowed gravity to finally win the fight against him as he sank to the ground, relishing the feel of the cool stone against his burning skin._

_The last thing he felt, as darkness took him once more, was a faint rumble and a jolt as the stone floor beneath him started to lower._

XxxXxxXxxX

When Harry woke once more the first thing he noticed was, he was wet.

Wet and floating.

His eyes opened slowly, carefully and he looked through a blue watery substance to see a room of metal. Grey and black and brown colored steel glittered in the light that refracted through the bubbling liquid he was submerged in. when a brief moment of panic hit him; fear that he would drown, he felt a breath of fresh air push its way into his lungs and felt the presence of a face mask covering his nose and mouth.

With the knowledge and reassurance that he could breath underwater, Harry took the time to take stock of his situation.

He didn't hurt.

He floated in the tank; suspended comfortably with the breathing mask and clad only in a pair of form fitting shorts and he didn't ache. His bones didn't feel like they were creaking and shattering, his lungs didn't burn from the exertion of breathing and his muscles didn't feel like they were on fire.

"_Oh, you survived. How, unfortunate._" A tiny, mechanical voice broke through to him.

Harry turned toward the voice and his eyes widened when he saw, a robot. As tall as Aunt Petunia and just as thin, the robot had crooked joints and a gaunt; skull like face.

"_If you had died then I could h__ave not needed to waste my time on you._" The robot commented as it approached the tank Harry was submerged within. "_Why the Great Master had to ensure my medical protocols were so strict I will never understand. I could have been a combat droid, but no the Great Master wanted a Medical Droid._"

The robot, no, Medical Droid, fiddled with a console next to the tank, examining readouts displayed on a holographic readout.

After a moment the Droid looked from the readout and over to him, cocking its head to the side thoughtfully. "_I don't suppose I could convince you to allow me to terminate you. For medical reasons?_"

Harry blinked in shock at the sheer casual way the Droid had asked if it could kill him actually stunned him for a second before he quickly shook his head in the negative; denying the Medic's apparent fond desire.

The Droid's shoulders fell and its head hung down sadly, apparently quite upset at the refusal. "_How unfortunate. Perhaps another time then. Oh well, hold still while I drain the Bacta, your treatment is complete, a quick post recovery test and you can be on your way._"

Harry nodded in understanding and waited and watched silently and with wide eyes as the liquid he had woken within; Bacta according to the Droid, was drained out of the tank, lowering him to the floor.

Thirty minutes later and the Medical Droid had cleaned Harry's body of any remnant Bacta and removed the life support equipment that had allowed him to breath.

It was, better. While not as relieving and wonderful as when the ghost had filled him with The Power, the pain that Harry felt now that he was out of the healing Bacta and back in the unforgivable world was lessened almost incredibly so. It was almost nothing more than a dull ache at the back of his mind and his body simply felt only faintly tired.

"_If you continue to deny me permission to medically terminate you then you will need to remain on a strict regime of stims and bacta treatments for the next forty-five rotations._" The Medic Droid supplied as it pressed a needle into the side of the boy's neck. "_The treatment should boost your biological functions and immunity system. I have been informed by the Taskmaster that the Great Master intends to apply his own treatment to further your recovery._"

Harry nodded in minute understanding. The last thing he could remember before waking up in the Bacta Tank was passing out atop Glastonbury Tor; the destination Bane had instructed him to reach. It was not a far reach to consider that wherever he found himself now was the very place he had been seeking. Thus making the 'Great Master' the Droid referred to as Bane himself.

"_Well, off you go._" The Droid stepped back from Harry, moving over to the table and collecting the equipment it had gathered in treatment of the boy. "_I will seek you out for your next treatment. Until then, try not to bother me with your organic condition._"

Harry nodded as he slipped off of the stool he had been seated upon, a small smile on his face as he found amusement in the antics and behavior of the medic.

Watching for a moment as the quirky droid busied itself within the medbay, muttering under its 'breath' in a language that he could not understand, Harry finally turned away from it and walked out of the room. The space beyond the medbay was similar in design and appearance; walls of gleaming metal and lights lining the ceiling as the corridor turned a corner at either side of him to parts unknown.

Not sure where to go, Harry turned to the right and walked down the corridor on nothing more than impulse. When he passed by a closed door to his left he ignored it, an empty feeling giving him the impression of nothing worthwhile being behind it. When he reached another door to his left, here he stopped.

At Harry's presence the door slid open with a hiss of compressed air and a faint bluish glow emanated from within. Walking into the room, Harry's gaze almost immediately fell upon the seated spectral form of Bane; perched atop a small stack of crates on the far side of the room.

"_An impressive display child._" The Ghost spoke, motioning for the six year old to approach him. "_While the test I gave her was different to yours, not even my Apprentice displayed such an instinctive grasp of The Force as you did that night._"

"The Force?" Harry pondered aloud, briefly turning to consider the door as it closed behind him before returning his eyes to the ghost. "You mean The Power?"

Bane nodded. "_A crude comparison for the vast and unexplainable truth, but a close enough approximation. You are a part of a wider universe than you could possibly understand child._"

"How can I understand?"

Bane leaned forward, resting his elbows atop his knees as he peered down from his perch to the child that had come to stand a few feet from him. "_I have you a test: find The Legacy, and you succeeded._"

"I made it to The Legacy?"

Bane nodded. "_The Legacy is a ship, hidden away on this pitiful little world long ago by my __W__ill and __O__rder. Buried beneath what the natives called Glastonbury Tor. You made it here, despite your limitations and immaturity. Despite the pain and suffering you endured. You passed my test._" The Ghost rose to his feet and took the two steps to remove the space between the two so that he loomed above Harry; his gaze locking onto the six year old's.

Harry looked at the ghost; whom apart from simply staring back at him, did nothing. Bane had fallen completely silent and motionless from his perch. As if awaiting input from the child.

"What now?" The boy finally asked, unsure as to what direction things would go from this point.

Bane simply raised an eyebrow. "_That I believe, is up to you child._"

Harry furrowed his brow in thought, turning away from the glowing blue spirit to take in his surroundings briefly. Not too long ago he was helpless; weak and dying in a small cupboard and enslaved to the cruel whims of his relatives. Now he was standing in a genuine spaceship, getting medical treatment from a robot and talking to a ghost. But more importantly for Harry at this time, was the fact that right now, at this moment in his life; he was feeling the least amount of pain and suffering.

"This Power; The Force." Harry spoke up, returning his eyes to Bane with a hard, determined glint within them. "What is it?"

XxxX

_What is The Force? I cannot begin to explain it to a satisfying level. Scholars and mystics have dedicated the lives of themselves and their Order to measure and organise its mysteries and origins._

_I can tell you that The Force is everywhere. Inside all things that exist within this galaxy; living and dead. It is in the air you breath, the water you drink, the animal flesh you consume. It is in the earth you walk upon and the void between the stars you gaze at. It binds us together and fills the cosmos with life. But also death. If there is ever a truth to be applied to The Force when learning of it, it is this:_

_The Force is indifferent. There are countless groups that would claim that The Force 'fights with them' and teach of its favor like that of a higher being passing down a blessing upon them and a curse to their enemies. None of this is true. The Force is simply The Force. It has no will nor sentience beyond that of your own, neither does it carry any care for its use beyond that which you allow._

_To those with the gift and capability to be sensitive to it, The Force carries with it unimaginable power. As you yourself experienced; it is the power to affect change and control over that which normally you possess none. In the hands and mind of a Master, The Force is a limitless power. Unmatched by any conventional weapon or tool and the very term 'impossibility' becomes a restrictive figment of a lesser mind._

_I have seen men driven to madness and powerful rulers brought low under the sway of The Force. It is the power to make the very earth tremble and tear worlds asunder just as it is a force to restore life to the dying and drive away sickness and pain._

_As I said, there are those that have tried to divide The Force; to separate its parts into neat little portions and impose their own order and doctrine into something that by its very nature is disorder. I confess myself complicit to this in life._

_The Light Side. The Dark Side. Living, Unifying, Cosmic, Physical. Labels decided by mortal creatures with no true understanding beyond that which they wish when it comes to The Force. Truthfully, when one looks upon The Force they see only a reflection of their own desires. It shows you what you want to see and how you want to see it. In my youth I saw power and strength in followers of The Dark Side of The Force and so when I reached for it, I saw only what I wanted to see, the power of the Dark Side. The pacifist users who seek to use The Force for what they would define as 'good' and 'just' look only to The Light Side._

_The Force is all of these things, and yet none. The Force existed long before any of us divided it into such petty concepts such as 'Light' and 'Dark,' and it will be here long after the last of us are gone from this galaxy._

_I will not tell you that there is no such thing as 'good' or 'evil'. It would be a lie. Just as good exists in the galaxy so too does its counterpart. Just as The Force can be used to bring peace and happiness so too can it bring pain and death. The deciding factor in this is not 'how' The Force is used; but rather 'why'._

_In short; The Force is a cosmic power beyond any other and capable of things that are beyond measure and reason. There are restrictions and limitations that are a result of the fleshy mortality of the user, but the only true impossibility is that no-one can ever truly know all there is to know about The Force. You can learn of it your whole life; master as many secrets and powers as you wish and still leave this life knowing nothing._

_The Force is power. It is knowledge and wisdom._

_I was once myself a powerful practitioner. I possessed knowledge of The Force that to this day are unmatched in its sheer power and mystery. And yet, for all that I knew, all that I had learned and gathered during my time amongst the living; I was nothing before The Force when I joined it in death._

XxxX

Bane paused for a moment, looking down to the now seated and raptly attentive boy. "_I passed on a great deal of the knowledge I had collected to my apprentice, the one I had selected to carry on the Legacy of Bane. And then I died; as I chose and wished to the Order I had created in my life._"

"_When I learned to use the Force in my youth; I was trained to follow an instinct to channel my emotions and passions into The Force. It is a practice that an Order of Force users had declared as a means to channel the 'Dark Side' of The Force. It was a Sith practice as it is our passions that give us drive, give us determination to set goals and strive to meet them. I am sure you understand that there are emotions that are more powerful than others?_"

Harry nodded in understanding; recalling his time at The Dursleys. "Anger and hate. My uncle was always more violent and loud whenever he was angry for whatever reason. He seemed to hate a lot of things and it was always a very vocal hate."

Bane nodded in agreement. "_Yes. Even in those that are not sensitive to The Force are driven and enhanced by their feelings. Emotions such as hatred, anger, pain and fear inspire physical responses. They drive people to fight harder, longer and with greater fervor. When used by a Force sensitive it has an effect of __enhancing the power of The Force just as in turn it magnifies the emotions that have been poured into it. A feedback loop if you will._"

"So bad emotions make The Force stronger but at the same time makes the emotions more strong?" Harry interjected.

Bane smiled in approval; appreciating the input of the child to his impromptu lesson. It showed that not only was the boy listening; but he also understood.

"_A simple but nonetheless accurate conclusion yes. It is the true danger of any Force sensitive when applying emotions to manipulation of The Force._"

"How?"

"_Power is an incredible and overwhelming sensation to feel. The sensation and heady feeling of such power incorporated with a steady, increasing flow of anger or hatred is a dangerously corruptible influence. I have witness lesser Sith lose themselves to that feeling and become nothing more than mindless animals; slaves to their own darkness and believing themselves gods with the power they believe they possess. __They all fell to the Dark Side of The Force._"

"But that doesn't make sense." Harry spoke up, confusion evident in his face. "If the Sith put their bad feelings into The Force and it was given back to them with more, then how is that the Dark Side? Shouldn't it be that they fell to their own weakness?"

Bane smiled, pleased with the thoughts of the child. It was a simple line of thought, most would call it naive in fact. But there was no denying the fact that the Earth child had hit the issue squarely. The emotional feedback loop of The Force did not invoke or summon the 'Dark Side'. Those that 'fell' to the 'Dark Side' and were lost within it had simply failed to master and maintain control over the emotions they had fed into The Force.

"_An enlightened view not many are able to reach._" Bane replied in approval. "_It is the mistake of many to avoid blame regarding their own weakness and madness and simply lean upon the crutch of blaming the Dark Side of The Force. It makes for an epic tale of ultimate victory when a Force user who has fallen to the 'Dark Side' returns to the 'Light'._"

"And I am able to use The Force?" Harry pointed out. "When you helped me use its power to get here, you said that I had the ability."

"_That I did. While you are currently unable to call upon The Force on your own, I simply pushed open the doorway temporarily if you will._"

"Is that why I'm always sick? Why it hurts so much?" Harry asked. "Sickness, pain and weakness; is that the price to be sensitive to this Force?"

Bane shook his head. "_No. there is something wrong with this planet you were born upon. A great and terrible cancer that has twisted and tainted The Force here. To those that are not connected to The Force they could live their entire lives and not notice. But you; who was born with such a powerful connection, you feel the cancer that eats at this world as keenly as it does. Your body is weak and wracked with pain because the sickness that infects this planet is in turn trying to infect you. I have seen a handful of children born with a connection to the Force on this planet since my arrival here._"

"And what happened to them?"

"_The__y__ died._" Bane replied, bluntly. "_Without exception each and every Force Sensitive before you has died by the age of four. Unable to survive here in a world trying to kill them._"

"But I'm six." Harry pointed out, wide eyed and filled with no small amount of fear and alarm at the revelation.

"_You are exceptionally more powerful than those who came before you._" Bane offered with a shrug. "_Truthfully I am surprised you have lasted as long as you have in your condition. But in the end, you are currently dying._"

"B-but I don't want to die." Harry pointed out, sad and with a growing tremor in his voice.

"_Then don't._" Bane said dismissively with a wave of his hand. At the boy's confused and teary expression he stood up and approached the boy, crouching down to look at him closely. "_It is possible to survive on this toxic world. This place eats and corrupts The Force until it is nothing more than a Miasma of cancerous pain and death. But it can be staved off. I am here, now as nothing more than a manifestation of pure Force energy. By all rights the planet should have destroyed my very spirit. But I am able to endure because while my body may have died, my spirit and power endures. Even in death I can still use The Force in such a way as to stave off Earth's Miasma. It is what I did to you to give you the strength to leave your cage beneath the stairs._"

"_If you wish to live, then you will listen to what I have to say. You will learn what I have to teach and you will obey what orders I have to give._" Bane rose to his full height, stretching his arms out wide. "_Here within The Legacy I will teach you how to live. And when you leave here, you will teach yourself how to be Great._"

XxxXxxXxxX

**Merry Xmas and New year...you know, all that jazz.**

**First of all, well we're not going to apologise for the lack of updates. Xmas season has us busy with our personal lives which had prevented us from updating according to schedule. In the next couple of weeks we should be able to return to the Schedule of updates which will return as follows:**

**Week 1: Zero Chakra Plan**

**Week 2: Never Alone**

**Week 3: Throne of Babylon**

**Week 4: Risen in Light, Fallen to Shadow**

**Bane of Light and Inversion are free range stories that get updates when we have a free moment or if the mood strikes us during a week over what is scheduled (_really not all that much given we tend to hype ourselves up for the coming week to avoid such a thing._)**

**Now then, this was not a very long chapter. It is more a bit of an info dump for Harry from Bane to introduce him to the new world he is to enter as well as explain to those who have waited patiently for a reason as to why Harry is so very frail and physically weak.**

**Next update from this story will be a bit of initial training to progress up to Hogwarts age.**

**Later.**

…**.REVIEW FORCE DAMN YOU!**


	4. Peace or Passion?

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-communication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

"_B-but I don't want to die." Harry pointed out, sad and with a growing tremor in his voice._

"_Then don't." Bane said dismissively with a wave of his hand. At the boy's confused and teary expression he stood up and approached the boy, crouching down to look at him closely. "It is possible to survive on this toxic world. This place eats and corrupts The Force until it is nothing more than a Miasma of cancerous pain and death. But it can be staved off. I am here, now as nothing more than a manifestation of pure Force energy. By all rights the planet should have destroyed my very spirit. But I am able to endure because while my body may have died, my spirit and power endures. Even in death I can still use The Force in such a way as to stave off Earth's Miasma. It is what I did to you to give you the strength to leave your cage beneath the stairs."_

"_If you wish to live, then you will listen to what I have to say. You will learn what I have to teach and you will obey what orders I have to give." Bane rose to his full height, stretching his arms out wide. "Here within The Legacy I will teach you how to live. And when you leave here, you will teach yourself how to be Great."_

XxxXxxXxxX

It had been a fortnight since his first awakening within the ship known as the Legacy. Two weeks since his now mentor Bane had revealed to him the death that awaited him if he did not take steps to avoid it; that the reason he was so weak, that his muscles burned and bones ached was because the planet itself was infected with some form of disease that was choking and killing The Force and any unfortunate enough to be connected to it.

Bane himself had not been seen since that day in the Legacy's storage hold. The Force Ghost had faded away and left his new student in the care of the small compliment of Ship Droids.

Mad-Med; the ships medic-droid whom Harry still found highly amusing in its desire to be a combat droid and often requests to 'terminate him' for the sake of medical science.

Taskmaster; a training droid that had been inserted into the ships crew for the specific purpose of training him in the physical aspects of his future education that as Ghost; Bane could not.

Pilot was, well the pilot. Currently inactive due to the current grounded state of the ship, the aptly named Droid was motionless and functionless in its seat within the ship cockpit.

There were a couple of Engineering Droids that Harry only saw in passing; going about their duties in silence and independently. They didn't interact with him and according to Mad-Med, they didn't even speak any language beyond Binary; the base language of droids.

It had been Mad-Med and Taskmaster that had seen to Harry's physical recovery. The medical regime that the Medic Droid had him on proved a wonder in restoring a semblance of physical vitality to the boy while Taskmaster designed a work out routine for Harry to follow in order to ensure that the six year old developed a strong constitution and stamina required for when his real training began.

Harry himself had wondered about the Legacy and the cave formation it was parked within. He was still on Earth; beneath Glastonbury Tor by his understanding, and yet, the suffering the world imposed upon him all his life seemed muted here. Distant and lessened to an incredible degree. When he had asked Mad-Med this; the Droid had pointed out the answer to be something beyond the Droid's capability of completely understanding. All it had been able to provide Harry with was;

'_The Great Master has erected a shielding. The conditions within the cave and the Legacy are unique to that beyond. Effecting a form of quarantine._'

Currently Harry was in the process of his morning workout regime. A number of laps around the perimeter of the cave that housed the Legacy. As was what Harry had quickly come to accept as the norm; Taskmaster was chasing after him with what he understood to be a Sith Training Saber. If the sadistic droid caught up to him, well, getting hit by this particular Saber was not a pleasant experience given the minor burns and paralysis the 'blade' caused.

Mad-Med was waiting by the loading ramp to the large Freighter that was The Legacy; holding a tray of Harry's next assortment of Stims in order to continue his recovery.

"_Faster Monkey!_" Taskmaster shouted, swiping its Saber and clipping Harry's right shoulder.

Harry's right arm dropped, the toxins filled barbs of the training weapon deadening the arm from the contact point at his shoulder down to his fingertips. He ignored the sting of the burn from where the Saber had hit him, focusing instead on increasing his speed to evade Taskmaster's follow up swing.

On his first day of training he had been terrified of the training droid with its training sword. The first time Taskmaster had chased after him while he had been made to do laps of the cave the droid had been able to hit him a number of times. The burns hurt quite a lot and had nearly sent the poor boy into a panic with visions of the beatings his uncle had visited upon him frequently back at Privet Drive. When that first training session had come to its conclusions, Taskmaster had sat him down to explain its actions and the necessity of providing the kind of incentive and discipline that it did. It was not about making him afraid or inflicting senseless pain. It was about urging him forward beyond his limits. To go stronger and faster so that when the future came when it was his life on the line, Harry would be able to outrun death.

Since then Harry said nothing of Taskmaster's harsh training behaviours or the burns he collected whenever the Droid managed to catch up to him.

Taskmaster managed to get him again by the end of his laps, numbing his back from a quick thrust that had hit him in the small of his back, but overall the Droid had expressed its acknowledgement toward Harry's improvement and steady progress.

Mad-Med looked to the approaching child, finally tearing its optical sensors from the Training Saber and shelving its desire to wield it itself. Personal Training was concluded and the its patient was due for the next round of treatment.

"_You managed to avoid a notable number of Taskmaster's, attentions, today._" The Droid commented as the child finally reached its position. "_How unfortunate. Perhaps later you and I could convince Taskmaster to allow me to participate in your next session? I have a number of scalpels that could be quite useful for such an occasion._"

Harry smiled widely and let out a quiet laugh. "Maybe next time Mad-Med."

The Medical Droid let out a burst of static in an approximation of a resigned sigh. "_You have made such a claim several times before Little Patient. I find the odds continuing to slip away from me in my wish to engage in violence with every passing day._"

Harry shrugged impishly in response.

"_Well then if I am to be denied violence then I must perform my programmed duties as your medical provider Little Patient._" Mad-Med lashed out with an arm, quicker than Harry could track, and stabbed a needle into the side of his neck, pushing down on the dispenser to inject the Stim into the boy's bloodstream.

Harry flinched slightly, able to contain a full response with the understanding and experience that when it came to Mad-Med, 'permission' and 'consent' were nothing more than fancy words of fantasy to the Droid.

As quick as the Stim Injector was removed from his neck Mad-Med's arm snapped out again, this time stabbing two more needles into the middle of Harry's chest; right into his heart.

"_This will be the last of your Bacta injections._" Mad-Med informed as it returned the last two needles to a metal tray to be returned to the Medbay. "_Your recovery is progressing quickly. At your current state you will need to take only Stims every second day and a health checkup every third day to ensure there are no, unfortunate, deviations._"

Harry nodded in understanding. Truth was he felt better now than he had ever in his entire, admittedly short, life. Even with the dull sting of the burns from Taskmaster and the uncomfortable numb feeling of the paralysis in different parts of his body.

A part of him recognised the fact that it was a combination of both the regime that Mad-Med had him on with the quarantine shielding that protected the cave and the Legacy from the outside world and that he might very well feel notably worse when he left its protection, but for now, he felt great.

A glowing light, emanating from the top of the loading ramp and the airlock into the Legacy brought Harry's attention from the Medical Droid who was now, disturbingly enough, crooning at a scalpel; clearly having already decided it was finished with Harry for today and therefore written him off as 'unimportant.'

Seeing Bane standing there, Harry could not help but brighten up. It had nothing to do with any form of affection he had for the Ghost. Harry had not known Bane nearly long enough to form any kind of attachment.

No it was the opportunity that Bane's presence represented that Harry was happy with. Just that initial discussion regarding the cosmic power that Bane had labelled 'The Force' had Harry's attention and interest. A power that spanned an entire galaxy and held limitation only in the minds of those who could use it. The fact that, by implication from the Force Ghost, this power held the key to saving his life and preventing his premature death was no small part of his keen interest as well.

Ascending the ramp to the waiting Ghost, Harry followed after Bane whom had simply turned to enter the Freighter without word of greeting or comment to the child.

Harry followed the spirit to the Cargo Hold of the ship. It seemed that Bane had designated it as potentially the site for any and all future instruction regarding The Force.

Believing that Bane would seat himself back atop the storage crates like last time, Harry moved himself to a position in front of them and eased himself down on the ground, seating himself cross legged and using his left arm to position the still numbed and paralysed right arm comfortably.

Bane, having watched from the corner of his eye as the six year old sat down and prepared for whatever he had for him, nodded to himself in approval. It seemed he had found a good student. There was no ego to speak of from the human of Earth. No demand for specific instruction or desire to chose his own path and instruction regarding The Force. He liked this, the patience, understanding regarding the students own ignorance and the trust in the Master to rectify that.

Perching himself atop the pile of storage crates, as Harry had anticipated, Bane peered down at the boy, resting his cloaked arms atop his knees as he sat akin to an emperor on his throne.

XxxX

_When Last we spoke I explained, in admittedly little detail, the subject of The Force._ _Do you recall I made mention of the various groups and organisations that had established schools of thought and learning around it?_

_Throughout the storied history of this Galaxy, there have been a countless number of groups, all of which came to learn and manipulate The Force, that have risen to prominence and fallen to obscurity. Primitive cultures that regarded it with the term 'Magic' or even 'The Power' as you first considered it. But none have had more impact over the galaxy and its occupants on a whole as the Je'daii Order._

_Well over twenty five thousand years ago, on a planet very much like this one, called Tython. The populace of the planet were comprised of an incredible number of Force Sensitives. These people organised to form what the Je'daii Order. Founded upon the belief and desire to learn of The Force; this organisation was focused on the ideal of 'Balance'. Stemming in part from the twin moons that orbited the planet; Ashla and Bogan._

_These moons were considered to be physical representations of what they had come to consider as the Light and the Dark. It was also where they would banish members of their own order if any individual fell from the Balance toward any one side. If a Je'daii fell to much to what they considered the Light Side of The Force they were banished to Ashla and made to meditate on Bogan. Similarly if a Je'daii fell to far to the Dark Side, they were banished to Bogan to meditate on Ashla._

_Eventually there came a schism of ideals. While there were outside mitigating factors that did spark this schism, at the heart of the issue was the fact that a divide had emerged from within the Je'daii. A belief that forever more tore the Je'daii apart into two separate Orders._

_The belief was simple; one faction believed strongly in the strength and power of the Dark Side, while the other believed in the protection and guidance of the Light._

_The conflict, while largely forgotten in this modern age, was known as The Force Wars. While ultimately the Bogan Faction lost this war and the survivors reorganised into the Jedi Order; a group that survives to this day, the core conflict of ideals did not die with the Bogan Faction._

_The Great Schism was the name given to the true divide of the Jedi as well as the origins for the Order I myself originated from._

_You see the Jedi Order believe in a single school of thought that my Order came to consider abhorrent and ultimately foolish; that is the denial and eradication of all emotional connection. _

_The Jedi hold to a code; a set of rules that they use to govern their behavior._

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no death, there is The Force._

_The very first line of their code that the Jedi follow holds to a denial of all attachment and emotional connection to their surroundings. They choose to enslave themselves to The Force and to act only when they feel that The Force wishes it._

_Those that became labelled as 'Dark Jedi' and fought against their Jedi brethren in this Great Schism were more passionate. They felt that to deny a part of ourselves, to cast away all thought of emotion and attachment was to die._

_This conflict lasted a century to result in the Jedi Order emerging once more the victor and casting these 'Dark Jedi' out and into exile._

_It was in exile that the Dark Jedi; lead by a powerful man by the name of Ajunta Pall found an isolated people called Sith._

_The Sith were everything that the Dark Jedi had desired to be. Creatures of passion and powerful in The Force as a result. Ajunta Pall lead his fellow exiles and in time conquered these people; bringing the Sith under their rule and taking the name as their own. It was the true birth of what came to be known as the Sith Order._

_To be a Sith was nothing like being a Jedi. Just as the Jedi had a Code to follow one of the former Exiles turned Sith; Sorzus Syn made a Code for the Sith to follow as well._

_A mantra that highlighted and reinforced the core beliefs of this new Sith Order._

_Peace is a lie, there is only Passion._

_Through Passion, I gain Strength._

_Through Strength, I gain Victory._

_Through Victory, my chains are broken._

_The Force shall set me free._

XxxX

"The Sith, the proper Sith, they were conquered?" Harry spoke up. "Why did the exiles conquer them if the Sith were what they wanted to be? Why not just join them?"

Bane shrugged. "_Often times when someone tastes power, real power, they change. Sometimes for better, more times for worse. The Force, especially when used with emotion, inspires a change in us all. It takes the darkest parts of you, the pieces that you hide in the deepest recesses of your soul, and brings it to the surface. In some it may bring forth a powerful drive to protect another regardless of consequence, in others, a hunger to stand above all others._"

"Wouldn't that mean that the Jedi were right? That it's dangerous to use emotion through The Force?"

Bane thought for a moment, considering the question. "_To be alive, truly and properly alive, is to experience uncertainty. A man can never truly know who he is, what he is capable of until he first tastes real power. The Jedi hide from this. They shy from power and influence out of fear for what they might find. Yes it is true that after tasting power a man might find a monster residing in his darkness. But what if instead he finds a savior? What is more dangerous; to remain ignorant of who you truly are? Or to know with certainty if you are man or monster?_"

"I would want to know." Harry replied with certainty. "I don't think I'm a monster. I don't want to be a monster. But I would like to find out for sure."

"_And if you were a monster deep within your heart?_" Bane pressed, leaning forward. "_What if you gained power and from within your darkness you found only the beast?_"

"I would unleash it upon only those I choose."

"_You would not deny it? Attempt to destroy or return it to its cage?_"

Harry shook his head. "Why would I try to cage or destroy myself? If there is a monster within me, it does not change the fact that it is me. And I trust myself to know that I would still be able to keep control."

Bane nodded with a broad smile on his face. Feeling no small measure of pleasure and pride in the statement of this, his newest apprentice. So wise beyond his years and experience. Truly there was a wisdom to be found in the mind of a child.

"_Tell me then, Young One._" Bane asked, still glazing intently at the child. "_Which path speaks more keenly to your heart. Would you strive to be a Jedi? One who would hide from their darkness out of fear? Or would you be Sith? One who seeks out the truth of themselves, perhaps even foolishly so regardless of the danger it could present to those around them?_"

Harry, to Bane's approval, did not respond immediately. No, he hesitated. Considering the question and the gravity of the decision. The left path, or the right? Up or down? Light or Dark? Jedi or Sith?

"If being afraid and unsure were things that stopped me, I think I wouldn't have been able to get away from the Dursleys." Harry started slowly, considering his words carefully. "When I was at the Dursley's home. I tried to not feel. I endured the hate and anger of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. It didn't feel like I was living. Not really. I want to live. I want to see the stars that I looked up to every night at Privat Drive. I want to see this galaxy and meet the people that live there. I want, I want more."

"_The Jedi would tell you that what you want is a very Sith-like line of thought._"

"Then that's what I'll be." Harry said with a resolute nod. "I'll be Sith."

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N:**

**another relatively short chapter really. Harry is going through a training arc and there is quite a bit of info dumping going on that we really don't want to skip through as it is displaying not only a different perspective and line of thought that we want to show regarding concepts like The Force and the difference between the Light Side and The Dark Side, but also we want to show Harry's own reactions and responses to what he is learning, while he is learning it, not show it in hindsight.**

**You kind of miss out if you show it in flashback summary.**

**We are day two into a four day weekend so hopefully we will have more from Legacy of Darkness over the next two days.**

**Please be sure to leave reviews regarding this as we really would like to get feedback regarding how we are taking this. But know that while we are all for criticism it is only accepted if it is done constructively and not just to be an asshole and put us down. FLAMES WILL BE IGNORED AND DELETED.**

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	5. Through Passion, Strength

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-communication Speech.

**(a/n below; a couple of review questions answered.)**

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

"_Tell me then, Young One." Bane asked, still glazing intently at the child. "Which path speaks more keenly to your heart. Would you strive to be a Jedi? One who would hide from their darkness out of fear? Or would you be Sith? One who seeks out the truth of themselves, perhaps even foolishly so regardless of the danger it could present to those around them?"_

_Harry, to Bane's approval, did not respond immediately. No, he hesitated. Considering the question and the gravity of the decision. The left path, or the right? Up or down? Light or Dark? Jedi or Sith?_

"_If being afraid and unsure were things that stopped me, I think I wouldn't have been able to get away from the Dursleys." Harry started slowly, considering his words carefully. "When I was at the Dursley's home. I tried to not feel. I endured the hate and anger of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. It didn't feel like I was living. Not really. I want to live. I want to see the stars that I looked up to every night at Privat Drive. I want to see this galaxy and meet the people that live there. I want, I want more."_

"_The Jedi would tell you that what you want is a very Sith-like line of thought."_

"_Then that's what I'll be." Harry said with a resolute nod. "I'll be Sith."_

XxxXxxXxxX

**1987 A.D**

Harry ducked quickly, feeling the _woosh_ of displaced air as Taskmaster's training Saber passed through the air just above his head, narrowly missing him. Kicking back with his feet the seven year old tucked into a backwards roll to avoid a stomping foot and kick from the Droid. When he found his feet again, Harry lowered himself into a ready stance without thinking, waiting for Taskmaster's next move.

It had been eight months since he had come to live here in the Legacy and had been formally taken as an Apprentice under the Force Ghost Bane. In that time Harry had continued with his physical training at the 'care' of Taskmaster and Mad-Med as well as learning of the History of the Jedi and Sith under his new Master. Additionally Bane had begun teaching Harry how to meditate and call upon The Force himself as well as the details in how to channel emotions through The Force in order to boost his capabilities.

To Harry's personal regret he had very nearly destroyed Taskmaster that first time he had succeeded in channelling his anger successfully. The blind rage that had returned to him from The Force had caused him to lash out at his mechanical instructor and caved in Taskmaster's chassis from the violent release of raw telekinetic power he had unleashed. Harry would have shut down after that, due largely to his overall liking for his Droid caretakers and the shame he felt in nearly destroying Taskmaster. Thankfully it seemed Bane had foreseen such an eventuality and had, when he had commissioned the Legacy for its journey to Earth, made sure that there were a number of spare parts for the Droid crew.

Harry had made sure to be involved in repairing Taskmaster out of a sense of penance. While Bane had been more or less unconcerned with the entire ordeal, the Ghost did approve in the unintentional lesson it taught Harry in that in order to repair Taskmaster; the child had needed to learn _how_ to fix a Droid.

After that initial event Harry had, under Bane's guidance, learned how to properly control his emotions and harness them effectively in order to prevent that kind of wild and violent explosion in the future. It was still difficult for him, very much a wild ride for Harry whenever he channelled The Force using his emotions, calling on the 'Dark Side' as a Jedi would consider it. Pushing his anger, hate and even pain into The Force brought it back to him two, nearly three fold and more often than not, forced Harry into taking a moment or two to recenter himself and restore his control; even with preparation.

This was not to say that Harry only learned to harness his negative emotions through The Force. While Bane did teach that they were a more efficient form of fuel to boost a Sith's power and capabilities, positive emotions such as happiness and love were useful in their own form. Bane's teachings were that when a Sith found himself in combat; anger, hate and pain were great motivators and gave incredible power through The Force for these situations.

Outside of combat, it was very possible to find situations and applications where The Force could benefit more from positive and gentler emotions where hate would only be a detriment.

Back to the current training session Harry was engaged in; outside the ship in the cave, Harry watched as Taskmaster stepped into a slow jog toward him.

Training Saber held up, the Training Droid spun the blade around in a dizzying flourish before bringing it down to the boy's head.

Harry quickly flicked a hand out, using what limited knowledge of The Force he had to push Taskmaster's aim off by just enough so that it missed him completely when the seven year old turned his body to the side; shrinking the target that he presented to the Droid.

With Taskmaster slightly off balance, Harry stepped into the Droid's guard and raised the weapon he had been given for this spar; a small Vibroknife. Lunging forward, he thrust the blade forward, aiming for a weak spot underneath Taskmaster's armpit where the armored plating of its chest and arm was lacking.

Stopping just short of cutting into the Droid, Harry looked up to the now motionless Taskmaster who had in turn looked down to where the blade was just a few millimetres shy of cutting into it.

"_You have bested me._" The Training Droid commented, lightly, as if remarking on the weather. "_Amusing; almost like watching a monkey learn how to stand up without falling on its own ass._"

"I told you I would win one of these days." Harry replied with a satisfied grin.

"_That you did Monkey._" Taskmaster nodded slowly, stepping back from the seven year old and sheathed the Training Saber at its back. "_Perhaps I will have to listen to your pointless grunting and howling one day._"

Harry deactivated the Vibroknife and handed it over to the Training Droid silently before turning and walking out of the makeshift sparring ring that had been prepared for moments such as these. Mad-Med could already be seen, and heard, loudly lamenting the lack of blood and screams; cursing Taskmaster as a rusting heap of scrap to lose to a fleshy child.

Harry ignored the antics, of the bloodthirsty medic and instead locked his eyes with the stern faced Bane that was standing by the ship, arms folded into his spectral robes. A faint nod of approval and the former Sith turned on his heel to return into the Legacy.

Excusing himself to Taskmaster and Mad-Med, the former of which was threatening to dismantle the still raging medic if it didn't shut up, Harry jogged up to the ship and made his way to the Cargo Bay.

"_You have shown surprising progress these past few months Apprentice._" The spectre commented as Harry entered the room.

Harry momentarily paused when he saw that his Master was in the process of levitating the various containers to the far side of the room; stacking them tightly in order to create a large empty space.

"_It was my former Apprentice, your predecessor; Zannah, who commissioned Taskmaster at my instruction. She was quite careful in making sure that the Droid was __knowledgeable__ in as many forms of combat as a Protocol Droid is in galactic languages. __I had estimated your first victory over him to be somewhere close to your second year of training._"

Harry bowed to the Ghost. "Taskmaster is a good instructor Master."

"_Perhaps._" Bane commented as he turned away from the crates he had moved to face his apprentice fully. "_We shall see in due time._"

The former Sith gestured with a sweep of his hand to a roll of cloth that was resting on the floor just before his feet. "Y_our progress has forced me to consider you adequately prepared for your next stage in training. Come, open this and make your selection._"

Approaching the roll, Harry crouched down and gently unrolled the cloth. As he did his eyes widened momentarily at seeing a number of cylindrical devices being unveiled. Seven of them, each of a different size and design apart from two which were smaller; designed to be held in a single hand with matching designs and appearances. One of the seven was even very noticeably different as it had a slight curve to its shape.

"Lightsabers?" Harry of course recognised the weapons that he had unwrapped.

From the lessons and stories Bane had told him over the course of several months when discussing the history of the Jedi and Sith. Mention of the primary weapon of both Order had been mentioned and discussed in some detail. Enough so that Harry could identify them even though this was the first time he had ever laid eyes on one before.

"_Training Sabers._" Bane corrected. "_Identical in weight and appearance but different in function and mechanical design. The damage this weapon can inflict is no more than skin deep. Useless in every field beyond that of practice. You will select a Saber for your training._"

"Yes Master." Harry replied with a nod of acknowledgement. There was no need to further question the decision of his teacher, nor any desire to. He may have trust in the direction and speed in which Bane gave his instruction, but Harry truthfully had wanted to have his own Lightsaber since the first story he had been told of them.

"_Choose carefully my Apprentice._" Bane warned. "_You will carry this weapon with you at all times from this moment. You will maintain and care for your weapon as if it were your life. Should it break, you will have no other to replace it and I am sure Taskmaster will take great pleasure in punishing you if you attempt to face him empty handed because of your own neglect._"

Harry didn't respond to the advice/warning. His focus was on the seven Lightsabers laid out before him. He tried to reach for The Force; seeking any kind of pull or push toward any one of the weapons. Which held some significance to him?

The Force provided no answers.

Reaching for one, the smaller, one handed Saber that he was able to somewhat identify as a Shoto based from the descriptions he had been given, Harry hefted it in a hand; testing its weight. The balance and feel of the weapon. Thumbing the activation switch, a pale yellow beam of energy ignited from the end of the hilt. A gentle hum emanated from the weapon as Harry gave it a testing swing; trying to find some sense for how it felt.

Wrong.

He could not explain it. Holding the Shoto in his hand, it just felt, ill suited. When he tried to adopt a two handed grip there simply was no place for him to comfortable rest his other hand and the blade seemed too small. Training and sparring against Taskmaster with only a VibroKnife had been difficult for Harry not only due to the fact that the Training Droid had a far longer reach due to its large size compared to him, but the weapon it was using was longer than his and Harry had not felt all that comfortable in getting so close in order to effectively mount an attack.

Returning it to the cloth, the seven year old turned his gaze to the remaining six. Judging on the design of the largest of the offered Training Sabers he could identify a Staff-Saber. That could easily be dismissed. It was a more advanced kind of weapon. The type he would only be able to consider using _after_ he had gained some proper training and competency with a Lightsaber. So that one was out.

Finally, after more than a few moments of careful consideration; having dismissed the duel lightsabers and the large, bulky Saber, Harry selected the regular, one and a half handed Saber that had been the first to be unrolled from the cloth. It was heavier and bulkier to his hand than the Vibroknife he was used to; but really that was not surprising or unexpected in the least considering this was an actual sword and not a small knife. Igniting the blade and releasing the steadily thrumming beam of pale yellow, Harry gave the Saber an experimental swing to test the balance and weight properly. A nod of satisfaction and Harry deactivated the blade before turning back to his Master.

"I have made my choice Master."

Bane remained silent, flicking a finger out from his folded arms and using The Force to wrap up the remaining Training Lightsabers back in the cloth roll as he examined his Apprentice and the Saber the child was presenting him.

"_Are you certain of this Apprentice?_" He asked.

Harry nodded, looking down to the weapon briefly before returning his focus to the Ghost. "I am Master. I don't know how to use a Lightsaber and I feel that this one is the most balanced of the lot. Not too small or large and balanced well enough for me to learn."

The former Sith nodded in understanding. "_Very good. Know and remember your limits and own ignorance Apprentice. In truth that was the only Saber I would have accepted from you. All others are designed for more advanced forms of combat; had you chosen any of them I would have deemed you unfit to learn a lightsaber at this time and sent you back outside to train with Taskmaster._"

Harry allowed a small smile of pride to pass over his face. He passed another of Banes tests.

The cloaked spirit pulled out a Lightsaber; just as non corporeal as he and ultimately a copy of the genuine article, and ignited it. In life Bane's blade had been as red as any other Sith Lightsaber, its spiritual counterpart simply formed a blade of pale bluish white light.

"_You will first learn the starting Form; Shii-Cho._" Bane instructed, bringing his Saber into a guard stance. "_It is a form learned by all Saber wielders; Jedi and Sith. While some take this form further to master it for use in combat, it is primarily an opening form to other, more advanced stances of Saber combat. Now, do as I do._"

XxxX

**1988 A.D**

It clung to him like smoke, wafting off of him in curling tendrils of blackened red vapor. Harry, now a year older since he had taken to learning how to utilise a Lightsaber, was pacing back and forth, infusing his anger and hate into The Force. He had taken to honing his emotions and power within The Force quite well in the time since coming to The Legacy; able to control the heightened sense of euphoric power and almost blinding rage that came with it.

His 'Force Engine' as he sometimes considered it had been refined considerably in the months since his incident with Taskmaster; the eight year old tightening his grip over the wild and powerful emotions to the point were he was able to even use the blinding rage and hate to sharpen his focus and strengthen his will.

The cloak of dark smoke that wafted from his form was a physical manifestation of the power that he was generating; the 'Dark Side' energies of The Force that were building at his fingertips, the more anger he pushed into the force and accepted back.

It was with a shuddering intake of breath that Harry narrowed his eyes in focus, unknowing of the flecks of yellow that had taken form in his eyes.

At first it was just a smell in the air, sharp and very similar to the scent of an oncoming storm. Then it was a crackle; sharp snaps and cracks like static discharge as Harry brought The Force down his body and into his arms. A steady buzzing hum, like a swarm of bees temporarily filled his ears and a series of rapidly flashing white lights pulsed out from him. With one final surge of power drawn from The Force; fuelled by a sudden and last minute blast of the pain he had felt throughout his life, Harry thrust his arms out, fingers splayed wide.

An eruption of lightning burst forth from his fingertips, each as thick as the fingers that fired them; the Force Lightning exploded into a veritable storm of static and electricity, multiplying and splitting as it roared through the air faster than the eye could follow to slam into a large boulder several feet from the Sith-in-training with all the force and impact of cannon fire.

Harry maintained the flow of lightning for a few more seconds; sweat beading at his brow as his focus strained in maintaining the volatile technique. He could feel discharge from the Force Lightning creeping up his fingers the longer he held the technique; numbing the nerve endings and from the smoke wafting from his hands; burning his flesh.

Finally; when he could maintain it no longer, Harry jerked his hands back, forcibly severing the connection that was holding the storm.

Rubbing his hands together in an attempt to alleviate the pain he felt and massage some feeling back into his fingers, Harry pulled upon The Force to begin repairing the damage he had done; calling upon the delight he felt at his success to fuel the healing technique.

When he could start to feel a pins-and-needles like tingling crawling over his fingers; a sign that sensation was returning, Harry turned his attention over to the smoking boulder he had directed his attack toward.

There were sections that were glowing white hot from where the tendrils of lightning had struck and a few chunks had been blown clean off, but as a whole the large rock was still intact. Something Harry had not wanted to see. It had been his intention to shatter the boulder with his technique. To be able to harness so much power and pour it into a single, massively destructive attack, that it would cause stone to shatter like glass. But he had failed.

He could not prevent the snarl of frustration that tore free of his throat as he spun around and started to stalk back to the ship. Bane was absent for the week; restoring the willpower and energy he needed to manifest and therefore leaving the student to his own devices when not studying and training with Mad-Med and Taskmaster.

He would need to examine the ancient books that he had found in the archive room next to his personal quarters. Texts from the Sith Homeworld's of Korriban and Ziost that had been stored within the Legacy for its journey here, to him.

_Crack!_

It was sharp, loud. The sound of something big and heavy breaking cleanly. Turning his head, Harry's eyes widened when he saw the boulder he had tried to shatter break in two. Like it had been cut in two with a precise sword stroke the top half of the slab of rock slid off of its lower half to crash into the ground, further breaking into smaller chunks.

It was a widely smiling Harry who returned to the Legacy in the wake of that spectacle, very pleased with his success. While not completely what he had been aiming for, it had nonetheless proven to be a large step in terms of progress.

"I need to work on the feedback issue now." Was what he muttered as he passed the Medbay toward the archive room. "Power output can be improved but not at the risk of further damage to myself."

Reaching the Archive Room, Harry took a moment at the door to take in the treasure trove of information. Shelves of painted black Durasteel covered the walls and were filled with tomes of varying size.

Walking to the far end of the Archive, Harry made his way to a specific shelf and pulled out a tome that he had taken an interest in that had given him valuable insight regarding his current field of independent studies in the field of Sith Sorcery.

The Scroll of Freedon Nadd.

Obviously no longer a scroll given it was a book that he held in his hands, but that wasn't all that strange considering, by his understanding, that Bane's original Student; Zannah had taken the original texts from a number of differing formats and languages and transcribed them all into these books of Plasteel and Flimsiplast in Galactic Basic.

It was a good thing that he had managed to convince Mad-Med to teach him how to read and write it as well as speak it. All it had taken was to convince Taskmaster to let the Medic a chance to be included in one of their sparring sessions. No Scalpels included of course.

Taking the tome and relocating himself to the Cargo Hold/Training Room as assigned by his Master, Harry sat himself atop one of the crates and opened the book.

Originally written by the Sith Lord Freedon Nadd this Manuscript detailed a comprehensive account of the Sith's life and his teachings. Included within were a number of accounts, lessons and record of the Sith's exploration into the art of Sorcery the school of Force based manipulation as developed by the Sith Order both before and following the arrival and conquest at the hands of Ajunta Pall.

It was within these pages that Harry had found anecdotes that had greatly helped him make progress in his progress toward mastering the ability to create and control Force Lightning. He had been trying for several weeks prior to manifest the iconic Sith technique, only to fail to create anything more than an errant spark at his fingertips. Freedon Nadd's writings had provided the key that he had been missing in order to properly and fully manifest it. The emotional key.

Force Lightning was a powerful and incredibly dangerous technique to even attempt. Requiring not only heightened emotional fuel within The Force, but an appropriate sense of pain in order to manifest anything more than a fancy show of light, color and sound.

The Manuscript was not organised with any kind of formal key and table. There was no page that detailed where he could turn to easily find the information he sought. No Harry had needed to read through the account of the Sith Lord's life, to read of his induction into the Jedi Order on Ossus and his later disavowment following the murder of his Jedi Master.

The man had journeyed to the Sith Empire and gathered a wealth of Dark Side knowledge. Here were where Harry had found the details and instructions that Nadd had left regarding the intricacies of Force Lightning.

Sighing in frustration at the lack of further detail that could possibly solve his control issues and insulate him from his own attack, Harry turned the page; hopeful that perhaps further down, later in Nadd's life, there would be further accounting regarding the technique.

Sadow.

A raised eyebrow at the word. It stood out amongst the others for some reason. Beating in his mind like a powerful drum.

With his curiosity peaked, Harry continued to read:

_I have gathered what I can of the knowledge of the Sith of Old. I dare not return to Korriban or any of the other Sith Worlds lest the Lords of the Sith discover my presence and strike out against me. I have long since embraced the Dark Side but I fear that to their eyes I will be nothing but a Jedi interloper._

_This knowledge, this power I have pilfered and gathered together is not enough. I wish to know, to possess the power that the Jedi fear so greatly. I know that I am meant for more. I will have more!_

_My search is to take me to a world just beyond the edge of the Old Sith Empire; a remote system where it is said one of the last great Sith Lords hid following the Great Hyperspace War._

_Naga Sadow. From what I have been able to learn it was said that he was one of the greatest of the Sith Lords second only to the mighty Marka Ragnos. I feel a pull even now; The Force guiding me toward my destiny. There is little doubt in my mind I will find the remains of this once mighty Sith and once I have taken what knowledge and power there is to be found from his resting place; perhaps then I will finally be able to assume my rightful place in this Galaxy._

Harry paused in his reading. He remembered that name. He had come across it before in this very book the first time he had opened it and flipped to a random page. It had been when he had thought to be able to simply open to whatever page and find some kind of Sith knowledge; only to discover that there was no context and so resolved himself to read from the beginning so he could gain some understanding first.

Flipping through the pages Harry quickly found the correct location where he had first caught glimpse of that name.

..._Learning under Naga Sadow has proven, interesting. My knowledge of The Force has increased exponentially since my arrival and submission under the Sith's authority and teachings. I find with each passing rotation that more and more of the Jedi I once was dying under the great power of Freedon Nadd the Sith. I was surprised to find but a handful of the dreaded Sith mutant warriors known as the Massassi on the planet serving the self-exiled Sith Lord. By my understanding and research prior to my original arrival on Yavin IV I was expecting to find legions more as by all records Master Sadow travelled here with the sum total remnants of the Sith subspecies._

_Seeing their massive, fearsome size for the first time had me awestruck. I could conjure no thought of technology nor Force secret capable of such powerful mutation to give reason for such change._

_When I spoke to my Master regarding such impossibility he had simply smirked at me and waved me off._

_I have spent months learning tirelessly in the effort of impressing my Master with my potential and skill in order to pry the secret from him. I have only now succeeded._

_Alchemy._

_That is the name he gave it. The __indescribable power of manifesting and conjuring The Dark Side of The Force permanently within the physical world. By Master Sadow's explanation he used Sith Alchemy to twist and reshape the Massassi under his thrall into better versions of themselves; more suited and able to tend to their lord and master._

_I have made attempts to convince him to teach me in this, but Master Sadow has proven, reluctant. Nothing more than commenting on his desire for measures of blood. I will not give up here, I will continue my drive for the knowledge of this Sith and learn…_

Harry closed the book with a defeated breath. Not what he was looking for. It would seem by that point in his life that Freedon Nadd was more concerned with the discovery of this Alchemy than continuing his knowledge of Sorcery.

Standing up, Harry returned the book back to its proper place, running a hand through his hair in thought as he turned to leave the Archive.

"Perhaps trial and error would prove a more effective method at this point." Was all he muttered as he made to leave the Legacy once more.

XxxX

**1991 A.D**

Harry had a free day. Taskmaster was preparing the grounds outside for the next Saber lesson; having spoken to him about at the final stages of his training of the First Form; Shii-Cho and ready to select which form he would like to move onto if not remain with Shii-Cho to the point of true mastery.

Bane had allowed him this day in the week as a personal day; to do what he wished to further his studies or rest and recover from the previous in preparation for the next.

Harry did not rest. Instead he found himself returning to the Archive and to the mystery that was Sith Alchemy.

It had proven a persistent mystery that he found himself incapable of moving on from ever since he had come across its reference in Freedon Nadd's manuscript. He had been able to master the application of Force Lightning; hone his control to the degree where not only could he avoid damaging himself when using it, but controlling the degree of its power to his satisfaction.

Bane had trained him in other aspects of Force Manipulation; bringing to his understanding various methods of telekinesis as well as theories behind more mental arts that were unfortunately beyond his ability to practice and hone with only Droids as his companions. But more often than not; when his Master had dismissed him for the day, his thoughts taking him back to that vexing name and concept. '_Alchemy._'

Unfortunately there was not a great deal of knowledge available for him in the Archive. Passages and obscure reference in a number of Sith Writings that detailed the art as more primitive voodoo than anything of any real power. It was in the Scroll of Freedon Nadd where the most knowledge could be found unfortunately. There had been mention of a Holocron being made by Naga Sadow but nothing regarding its contents.

As for what he could find, well it seemed that Freedon Nadd thought himself a bit of a historian in that the man had made sure to record as much as he could regarding the history and effect something had made throughout the Galaxy at large. When Alchemy had sparked the former Jedi's interest he had done his homework and recorded it within his biography. Terrible and enduring legacies such as the Sithspawn; the classification given to creatures that had been enhanced and mutated as a result of Sith Alchemy. Such creations had listed the Massassi of course as well as the terrible Terentatek; fearsome and powerful monsters that were able to actively hunt down Force-Sensitives and possessed a hide that was highly resistant to The Force, even in some cases, to the point of complete immunity.

There were also details regarding the use of Sith Alchemy in the field of enchantment and enhancement for regular items; from jewellery and clothing to weapons and armor.

This had sparked an inspiration within the now eleven year old. He had lived here in the Legacy for years now; safe within the Quarantine field from the vast majority of Earth's cancerous corruption. He had long since been able to ignore the small measure of constant pain and fatigue that still lingered in his flesh that had remained even under this umbrella of safety. But he had never failed to remember that it was only here that he was safe and healthy. Nor could he ignore the fact that he could not remain here, hiding underground in the relative safety of his Master's aegis. Even if he was to leave this planet in the near future when his Master deemed him ready, he couldn't stay here until that day.

In fact he wouldn't. He couldn't give reason for it, but Harry was certain beyond shadow of a doubt that this was fact. He would be required to venture back out into the world at some point.

Because of this concern, Harry had taken to a long term project that he had been working on for nearly two years now. Learning enough of Sith Alchemy from the scraps available to him to enhance and enchant a physical object to replicate the effect of the shielding but on a more personal level to keep him safe.

He had been able to mock of a few prototypes; a sheet of metal that he had been able to imbue with The Force that had, for a very brief time, taken away the last vestiges of weakness Earth imposed upon him. But this had barely lasted long enough to even consider a half decent test. Harry needed to find a method to instil a sense of permanency to force the enchantment to endure. To this end, after months and months of research, speculation and more than a fair share of trail and error, Harry had been able to develop a plan to follow.

Which lead to his current state.

The previous day, when he had finished his training with Taskmaster, Harry had collected a stone from the cave. Interestingly enough it had been a fragment from the large boulder he had destroyed the first time he had been able to successfully unleash a Force Storm. With this fragment, Harry had returned to his quarters and, with the stone clasped tightly within his hands, focused on The Force and the entirety of his being; his anger, hatred, pain, sadness, hope, joy, despair and overall passions into the stone. Slowly but surely, over the course of several hours; scrubbing away at the taint that filled every atom within it. He had to remove the cancer from the stone and replace it with his 'Dark Side.'

"_What, I wonder, have I stumbled across my Apprentice?_"

Harry looked over to the door, blinking away sweat and maintaining his concentration on his goal; a quietly throbbing crimson light breaking through small gaps between his clenched fingers. "A project of mine Master. My notes are on the desk."

Bane nodded in understanding. He had of course felt the massive surge of Force energy coming from the personal quarters of his Apprentice and knew better than to break his concentration. Moving over to the stack of paper, the former Sith sifted through the sheets; quickly reading through the notes, calculations and number of prototype diagrams both complete and incomplete that marked the margins.

"_Alchemy? I confess myself impressed Apprentice._" Bane commented with a raised eyebrow. "_An Art I myself never delved into and yet I can see a sense of natural familiarity in your understanding. I wonder if this is the touch of destiny I feel. Zannah who proved herself a prodigy __for Sorcery and my new Apprentice; a similar mind for Alchemy._"

Harry had to fight back the wave of pride that the words of his Master invoked in him. He could not afford the shift in his emotions at such a critical stage.

"_I see from your notes that you intend to replicate the barrier I have created within this sanctuary._" Bane continued, seating himself at the desk's chair to continue his perusal. "_A personal shielding within The Force that would cover your skin. I wonder how you could hope to maintain such a – ah wait, I see it here; a perpetual engine similar in function to my lessons to you regarding emotional empowerment via The Force._"

"Exactly." Harry confirmed. "If I can successfully create the physical shell, I should be able to alter its properties to contain The Force in a similar fashion to a Lightsaber crystal. Then with Sith Alchemy to set the enchantment I, with some luck, should be able to build the same kind of barrier within it that will cover my body."

The light pouring out from within Harry's hands started to pulse like a heart beat as the eleven year old felt the process nearing its final stage.

"The Force that creates the Barrier in turn reinforces the construct that maintains and fuels it."

"_And what kind of material do you intend to use for-_"

Bane's words were cut off by a sudden and powerful surge of raw Force energy. So powerful that it actually caused his image to flicker briefly. When the surge died down and the blinding flash of light that had accompanied it died down, the Force Ghost peered down into Harry's now open hands to see a small red crystal; no larger than his own thumb resting there.

"_A Force Crystal? But how? There were no such things stored here._" Bane questioned. "_Nor is there a forge with the means to create one available._"

Harry smiled with satisfaction as he swiped away the sweat from his brow while holding the crystal up to the light. "I figured how to replicate the overall results of a forge with Alchemy."

Bane had no words. He had always known that this boy would do great things. It was the reason why he had ordered his former apprentice Zannah to commission the Legacy and send it to this world in the first place. He had always known that Harry would become a powerful Sith. Just not so quickly.

"_I can sense no taint from this wretched planet lingering on the crystal._" Bane pointed out. "_You have successfully created something completely pure. I believe you may very well succeed with this little project of yours._"

Harry let his pride affect him this time. He could see it. The unfiltered wonder in the eyes of his mentor.

"_Monkey! I do hope you are not in the middle of some horrifying organic thing._"

The door opened and Taskmaster walked into the room, a hand covering its photoreceptors with the other held out in front of it, clutching a thick piece of parchment.

"Taskmaster what are you doing?" Harry asked with an exasperated sigh.

"_Mad-Med has told me what you organics tend to get up to at your stage of manufacturing. Completely disgusting spraying lubricant around like that._" Taskmaster replied with no small sense of horror. "_I came to give this to you._"

Harry chose to ignore majority of what the Droid had told him; he felt it was better for his sanity that way. Especially if Mad-Med was involved. Instead he focused on what the training Droid was offering him.

"For me?"

"_Yes, I was checking the sensors that I had installed at the surface structure and found one of this planets native avian rats perched with this. It is addressed to you._"

Harry frowned. How in the name of every Sith could anyone know where he was? He had been here for years, he fully expected the Dursley's had long since had him declared dead to the world.

Looking down to the parchment he saw that it was a letter he was holding.

_**Mr. H Potter.**_

_**Glastonbury Tor.**_

_**Glastonbury, Somerset.  
**_

Now what did this mean?

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N: so this will be the last chapter from Legacy of Darkness for sometime as we think we might be able to restore the regular Schedule as of next week. One last chapter to finish off Harry's training arc and the entry to the Magical World for next time.**

**Hopefully this was enjoyable to all readers and while we would like you to look forward to the next instalment, it would be remiss of us if we didn't point out you shouldn't hold your breath.**

**Now then:**

**Necronlord1987: regarding Pairings. There will be one, but we are keeping it close to the chest as regards to whom it is Harry gets to show his lightsaber to ;D**

**TriggerLaw: thanks for pointing out the whole Lighstaber form actually as it was perhaps the one detail of Harry's training and development we had overlooked. It had since been addressed and he had now got a form and Lightsaber design for the future. You will unfortunately have to wait to find out.**

**SayjinLord: in regards to your question regarding how we have done The Force in this fics; it is our favorite consideration when it comes to The Force. Both of us (Ahriman the Exile and Alakrux) have spent a considerable amount of time debating and discussing The Force and came to this as our favorite school of thought regarding it.**

**We like the idea of adding accountability into The Force and find it kind of gives some answers regarding the reason why using emotion within The Force is both so dangerous as well as powerful.**

**At any rate. Hope you enjoy this one, stay tuned.**

**And as always (we do this so often its becoming a habit really): favorite, follow, REVIEW!**


	6. The Masks We Wear

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-communication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

"_Mad-Med has told me what you organics tend to get up to at your stage of manufacturing. Completely disgusting spraying lubricant around like that." Taskmaster replied with no small sense of horror. "I came to give this to you."_

_Harry chose to ignore majority of what the Droid had told him; he felt it was better for his sanity that way. Especially if Mad-Med was involved. Instead he focused on what the training Droid was offering him._

"_For me?"_

"_Yes, I was checking the sensors that I had installed at the surface structure and found one of this planets native avian rats perched with this. It is addressed to you."_

_Harry frowned. How in the name of every Sith could anyone know where he was? He had been here for years, he fully expected the Dursley's had long since had him declared dead to the world._

_Looking down to the parchment he saw that it was a letter he was holding._

_**Mr. H Potter.**_

_**Glastonbury Tor.**_

_**Glastonbury, Somerset.  
**_

_Now what did this mean?_

XxxXxxXxxX

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

_**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,**_

_**Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)**_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress._

Harry looked up from the letter, eyebrow raised before turning his attention to Taskmaster and then to a silently watching Bane.

"This is a joke right?" he asked, waving the letter with his hand for emphasis. "Its creative i'll give you that. But really? Magic? And what's with all the titles this guy has? Why not go further and at Grandmaster of Avalon to it?"

Taskmaster didn't understand the doubt from the eleven year old but Bane did, even as he suppressed the urge to smirk in amusement at his students reaction.

"How did you think I would fall for something like this?" the preteen continued, bringing the letter back to his attention as he re-read it for a second time. "I don't pretend to fully understand The Force but I don't think I could mistake its abilities as Magic. So what's the point of this?"

"_It's not a joke._"

Harry's mouth stopped, half open for more ranting as to the poor execution of what he felt to be a practical joke. Looking over to his Master the boy blinked when he saw Bane very close to him, peering down at the letter and reading it himself.

"_This letter; its offer and the revelation it gives to the existence of Magic; it is genuine._" Bane continued. _"I had not believed you would receive this given the nature of your existence as a Force Sensitive. But it would seem I was in error. Hogwarts has registered you as one of their kind; a Magical._"

Harry just stared at the man, mouth closed and set into a hard line that Bane recognised as the expression Harry wore when he wanted answers.

"_Allow me to explain._" Bane continued. "_I have been on this planet for the better part of a thousand years now. I came here in search of, well that's not pertinent to this. What is, is that before you I have discovered a number of young children that each had the potential to connect to The Force. However without fail each and every one of them died as a result of the cancerous and corrosive reaction a Force Sensitive has to this planet._"

"_There were a few instances where, upon the death of the Force Sensitive, I remained to observe the family; with the intention of learning if another would be born to that family. That is how I discovered the existence of the Magical society that lives on this world._"

"But Magic? It can't be a different perspective of The Force, I don't see how it would be able to survive here if it were." Harry pointed out.

Bane nodded in agreement. "_That is quite true my Apprentice. Magic is a form of energy waste. A tumour if you will that has grown as a result of what this world's toxic existence has done to The Force that once filled this planet. Magicals; wizards and witches as they call themselves each carry a growth within them that allows them to tap into this tumour. Very similar to how a Sith or Jedi do so with The Force._"

"So that would mean…."

"_That __M__agicals on this world are what Force Sensitives that are born with the taint of this world become._" Bane finished Harry's thought. "_It is what you could have been had you not been born pure._"

"So i'm not a Wizard?"

Bane smirked, amused by the conflicted sense of relief and disappointment from his students mind. "_No my Apprentice, you are not._"

"Then I'll just dispose of this then." Harry said as he scrunched the letter up into a ball and started for the door, intending on dropping it into the incinerator.

"_Hold!_"

Harry froze; his years of learning under his master forcing him to respond instinctively. Turning back to his spectral Master and having only idly noticed that Taskmaster had since made its own departure from the room; no doubt returning to whatever duties it had when not training the boy.

"_Perhaps this can be made useful._" Bane continued, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robes as he looked off to the side in thought. "_It is something I had intended for later in your training; after you were more prepared and able. But this might perhaps provide a better alternative._"

"Training? In what?"

"_Social interaction._" The former Sith deadpanned. "_You are familiar with only myself and two Droids. If you truly intend to make your way out into a larger Galaxy, then it would suit you well to become familiar with interacting with more than a phantom and two admittedly psychotic robots._"

"But this Hogwarts place. it's for 'Magicals'. How could I possibly hope to blend in with their kind? Let alone survive in the environment?" Harry asked.

Bane narrowed his eyes dangerously. "_I do not waste my time with failure Apprentice. You claim to have devised a method to survive beyond the shelter of this place. This will suitably test your claim. You will survive. Or die._"

Harry swallowed nervously. Earlier this year his Master had begun recounting his own life and personal history. The life of Dessel and his transformation into the legendary Darth Bane. It was this understanding of just who and what his Master used to be that had him understandably nervous when he saw the Ghost risen to frustration.

"_By my understanding; the owl that delivered your letter will wait for your reply to return to Hogwarts._" Bane instructed, still pinning his student to the spot with his gaze. "_You will write a reply and deliver it to the creature upon which a reply will be returned to you with instructions of your escort to the Magical's Shopping District to collect your school equipment. I would suggest you complete your project in the time you have before your escort arrives._"

Harry nodded. There was no arguing this. Master Bane had determined that this would be best suited for him to continue his training and development as a Sith and as a person if he expected to survive out in a Galaxy filled with sentient life. This was happening.

Looking down to the letter still in his hand Harry thumbed over to the second page and frowned.

UNIFORM

First-year Students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ _by Miranda Goshawk_ _A History of Magic_ _by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory _ _by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ _by Emeric Switc__h_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ _by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions_ _by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ _by Quentin Trimble_

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 Wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Harry let out a subdued sigh, forcing his own annoyance and irritation down with his Master still present. It didn't mean he had to like it.

XxxXxxXxxX

True to what his Master had told him, the Owl that had delivered the Hogwarts acceptance letter had been waiting on the surface at the stone tower that served as the hill's only man made feature. Taskmaster had delivered his response to the bird while Harry himself returned to his work in completing the Alchemy work on his newly forged crystal that would serve as the keystone to his protection from the outside world.

A few hours into it and the same Owl had returned with a reply; his escort would arrive in two days to take him to a place called Diagon Alley where he would be able to purchase the supplies needed to attend the magical School.

It had been just enough time to complete the amulet.

In the end Mad-Med had assisted Harry into fabricating a thin Durosteel chain that had the dark purple crystal hanging from it. It tucked under his shirt, neatly out of sight from a casual prying eye and proved incredibly effective when Harry finally left the cave for the first time in years.

Harry had bade his farewells to Taskmaster and Mad-Med as he left the Legacy; dressed in a pair of simply black jeans and a long sleeve dark red shirt; 'collected' by the Training Droid on one of its 'provision runs' to the nearby town.

He had walked over to the far end of the cave where a Turbolift had been installed long ago when the Legacy had originally landed and the ships Droid crew had constructed the now historical hill over it. Originally the Turbolift had simply connected to the surface; up at the hill's summit. But when the locals had built the tower atop Glastonbury Tor, covering the surface point of the lift; the crew had updated the construction by replacing the flooring of the tower with the Turbolift platform and installing surveillance.

It was there that Harry emerged back into the wider world; the stone flooring of the St. Micheal's Tower sliding apart to allow the Turbolift Platform; matching perfectly in design to the stone work of the tower, to ascend and rest in its place.

Surveillance had reported that the Hogwarts escort had arrived, rather suddenly at the base of the hill and was in the process of making his way up the winding path. Master Bane had forbidden him from taking his Training Saber with him, cautioning him with the possibility of discovery, but allowed Taskmaster to arm him with a Vibroknife; one currently strapped to his right leg underneath his jeans.

Stepping out from the Tower, Harry briefly touched a hand against his shirt; to the protective amulet underneath. The Force shielding that had been formed by it was holding; he could feel only a fragment of the weakness that the world was continuing to impose upon him. When he saw the figure that was to be his escort come into view, Harry hunched over slightly out of pure reflex; unconsciously trying to make himself look weaker than he actually felt. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the last real human interaction he had known being the Dursley's; Dick the bartender not included.

It was a reflex that Harry noticed and frowned to himself as he went to correct it. Perhaps his Master had a point. If just the sight of another living being was enough to bring back childish instinct that he had thought to have abandoned years ago, then how could he very well go out and make his mark in a Galaxy filled with people?

But while he did correct his posture, Harry did maintain his weaker expression and perhaps just the slightest bend to his back to make him seem just an inch or so smaller. Better be underestimated in this world of unknowns in the event he had to attack rather than the alternative.

As the man approached Harry was able to take stock of his escort.

Early to mid twenties, pale complexion and wearing dark purple robes with a turban atop his head. Unremarkable looking all in all, but there was notable power within the man from what Harry could sense.

Unknown to the eleven year old was that, just as he was getting a gauge on his escort, so too was the man assessing him.

The Turban wearing Wizard was, somewhat impressed by what he saw. When he had been instructed to show a prospective student to Diagon Alley he had been surprised to learn that he was to pick the child up in the middle of no-where instead of a residence. Further more when he learned that it wasn't a Muggleborn he was collecting rather instead it was a Half-Blood that was borderline Pureblood given that both his parents had been magical prior to their deaths.

Introductions hadn't even been made and this child hadn't even been properly exposed to the Magical World and yet, there was a sense of power and strength that was not even commonplace amongst the fully developed Wizards and Witches. And yet, for the strength he could feel from the boy, he stood there looking as if he couldn't fight his way out of a tickling charm.

"Mr. Potter? My name is Quirinus Quirrel I am a Professor from Hogwarts." The man introduced with a hard yet curious glint in his eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you Professor." Harry said softly, offering a weak smile as he stepped up to the man.

"None of that." Quirrel waved a hand. "While I find your act amusing, You will need to work on it if you want to fool more than gullible fools."

"S-sir?"

Quirrel smirked in amusement. "When we arrive at our destination you will understand, but for now allow me to help you with this. If you want to continue pretending to be frail and weak, you need to make sure it reaches your eyes."

Harry frowned, both in confusion as to what this wizard was telling him and in subdued anger that he hadn't even been able to trick the first magical he had met into believing in his weakness.

"Your posture is fitting for this mask you wish to wear." Quirrel pointed out with a gesturing hand. "Facial expression as well. However there is too much confidence in your eyes. Your eyes carry too much emotion that contradicts what you would have others believe."

Harry nodded slowly. He wasn't so arrogant as to ignore what seemed as genuine advice. It was strange that he was being aided by the very Wizard whom he had attempted to deceive, but the constructive criticism was well meaning.

Harry thought for a moment, internalising his focus as he focused, not on his self confidence and determination, but his fear, sadness and pain. Bringing them to the forefront of his mind like a shield.

When Quirrel nodded in approval Harry reinforced his efforts and maintained it.

"Much better. You might actually convince another first year at this rate."

Harry fought not to slip and let his anger at the jab breach the emotional shielding he had erected. It had worked enough to complete the image he had wanted to project. With his slightly hunched posture and weak expression his eyes now held a look of tired sadness in them.

"I think," Quirrel pondered aloud, seeing that his mockery had not caused the eleven year old to slip up. "That I will enjoy teaching you this year at Hogwarts."

XxxX

With the Professor's help and a magical technique he had described as 'Apparition', the pair had departed Glastonbury Tor and arrived in a small room within a pub that Quirrel had called 'The Leaky Cauldron.' after providing Harry a moment to collect himself; the preteen very nearly dry heaving violently as he felt his amulet momentarily falter in keeping him protected from the world, the two left the Pub's Apparition Point.

"Ah, Professor Quirrel, what you doin' here?" A loud, gruff voice boomed out suddenly.

Harry watched as the previously confident and powerful looking man jumped in fright and spun around, bringing his arms in close to his chest and adopting a damn near perfect expression of nervous fright as he looked over and up to a giant of a man with a massively bushy beard and wearing a heavy looking coat.

"H-Hagrid! d-d-didn't see you t-there." The Turban wearing man stuttered anxiously.

Harry smothered a laugh when he saw the man glance over to his direction and let a glimmer of humor leak through his own mask.

"Got a job fer Professor Dumbledore." Hagrid boasted proudly as he patted a pocket on his coat. "He asked me te pick him up somethin' from Gringotts."

"Ah, I s-s-see." Quirrel nodded almost frantically, looking very much like he would like to run away from what had to feel like a terrifying conversation if the twitchy body language the man was giving out was any indicator.

Hagrid seemed to finally notice Harry standing a couple of feet behind the nervous Professor and leaned to the side to get a better look at him. "I didn't know you were doin' Muggleborn meetin's Professor. Always thought that was somethin' Professor McGonnogal did meself."

"Y-y-yes well M-Minerva asked for help this y-y-year's orientation." Quirrel replied; casting a quick, tense eye to the boy in question. "Mr. P-P-Potter and I are about to go to D-Diagon Alley for his school s-s-supplies."

Hagrid nodded and smiled kindly at the eleven year old. "Yer in good hands with Professor Quirrel here. Well I'd best be goin' meself then. don't want to keep Professor Dumbledore waitin' now do I?"

The giant man said a friendly goodbye to the Professor and to Harry before making his way through the crowd within the pub, parting the throng of people effortlessly with his sheer size.

The moment Hagrid was gone, the frightened look in Quirrel's eyes were replaced with that hard, powerful look that was soon turned to Harry. "Do you see now Mr. Potter?"

Harry was actually surprised by how swift a change the man's tone had taken.

"Hagrid is a kind but simple enough oaf." Quirrel spoke as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to steer him through the bar patrons toward the back exit. "But he can be known, rarely, to have moments of keen insight and awareness. But I have him, and others, believing myself to be quite fearful of even my own shadow. Could you understand how I have done this?"

Harry nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "It's not just body language, I know that its a large part of any act, but that wasn't all you did. Your eyes had a startled look to them, obvious given that you were the one to tell me about that aspect of any convincing act."

"It's also in the voice Potter." Quirrel finished for the boy. "Not just in what is said, but _how_ it is said. Words have power in many forms. If you intend to carry this act of weakness you seem to have crafted, then you had best learn quickly to be assured that your very words carry that same weakness."

Harry nodded and as the pair came to a large, featureless brick wall, the eleven year old took a step away from the man, narrowing his eyes carefully up at him. "So, what is it you want? Why help me with this I mean?"

Quirrel paused, hand half in the folds of his robes as he had started to reach for his Wand to open the gateway to Diagon Alley. It was an intelligent question, one that he had only minutely expected to get from the boy.

"Nothing in this world is free. Is that it Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, emerald green eyes briefly becoming tainted with flecks of yellow; something that Quirrel noticed with some measure of curiosity. "I learned early on that more often than not people are not so, charitable."

The Professor smirked in approval. "Well it is a fair question. Mostly what I said to you was said on a whim. But I do want something I suppose."

"And that is?" Harry raised an eyebrow and briefly called upon The Force to loosen the strap holding his Vibroknife to his leg; preparing for the possibility to attack the man. He did not have a desire to be used by this Wizard.

"Interestingly enough you remind me of someone." Quirrel answered, pulling his Wand out and eyeing the bricks in front of him as he mentally counted across them. "What I want; is to see just how much of that someone I am reminded of is in you."

"And whom exactly do I remind you of Professor?"

Quirrel tapped his Wand against a brick and stepped back as the wall started to fold back to form a large archway; revealing a narrow, twisting road stretching out beyond, filled with throngs of people dressed in robes and strange clothing. An entire population of Witches and Wizards completely separate from the rest of the world, going about their day to day lives without a care.

"A powerful man." Was all the Professor said before tucking his Wand back into the confines of his robes as he stepped into the Alley. "Now then, come. We need to visit Gringotts Bank before anything else."

Harry allowed the man to drop the subject; feeling that he would get no further information concerning the identity of whomever he reminded Quirrel of. Instead he followed in the wake of the purple robed man.

"How exactly am I to pay for any of this by the way?" He spoke up, testing out his latest instruction in strengthening his facade by inserting a quiver into his voice. "Does Hogwarts have some fund for orphans?"

Quirrel shook his head. "I have been told that you have a trust vault that was set aside for you when your parents passed away. The Headmaster has been in possession of your key in the years since and passed it to me for today."

Harry frowned. He didn't like that. The idea that some glorified school principal had been in possession of the literal key to his families money for a decade. "And why exactly does the Headmaster possess this vault key of mine?"

Quirrel just shrugged. "It is unusual I will admit. But Dumbledore is a powerful man in our society so it is not entirely unexpected. He was also a personal friend to both James and Lily by my understanding."

Harry nodded quietly, mentally filing the names 'James' and 'Lily' away for later. He knew nothing about his parents beyond what Petunia and Vernon had told him years ago. And the less said about what he thought those two wastes of space the better really.

He would need to look into these names; it would be nice to know more about the people that had brought him into this world. Even if by now they really meant close to nothing to him.

After all; how can someone mean something to you if you have never known them?

Together, Quirrel and Harry made good time to Gringotts Bank; passing through the large marble pillars and the engraved warning that detailed the in house opinion regarding bank thieves with little word or comment beyond Quirrel warning him to mind himself when dealing with Goblins.

It was an interesting experience, seeing and meeting with Goblins for the first time. They were unlike any species Harry had heard of or even read in the datapads and tomes back in the Legacy. From his understanding of what he had been able to sense from them; Goblins were motivated mostly through greed and a sense of arrogant pride. They believed themselves to be largely better than their human patrons, and from how the teller he and Quirrel had spoken to as well as the Goblin that had taken them down to his vault, it wasn't that hard to see.

As it turned out there was more than a modest amount of wealth to his name within this Trust Vault of is underneath Gringotts. Quirrel had pointed out that the vault was left in his name specifically and made separate from the Potter family vault that contained the remaining material wealth that belonged to his parents and family line before them.

A quick visit to that vault; with Harry learning that he had only provisional access to it due to his relative age, saw there was more than just traditional wealth within the Potter Vault. Furniture, various odds and ends like silverware and decorative pieces, a massive number of ancient looking leather bound books and from a quick glace; a shelve containing a number of wands.

When business in Gringotts was concluded, the pair returned to the Alley to purchase all of Harry's things. The Apothecary was an interesting store for Harry after Quirrel's explanation regarding the art of Potion-making. The Sith-in-training saw parallels to Sith Alchemy somewhat. Not a full translation between the two but more the similarities in alteration and enhancement. Harry had made sure to buy additional source materials regarding the subject in addition to the required textbook; _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, _if only to learn of any possible applications or benefits that could be found to incorporate to the Sith art.

In a short amount of time all that was left was for Harry to acquire his Wand.

"Will you be alright collecting your Wand alone Mr. Potter?" Quirrel spoke up as the Professor came to a stop in front of Ollivander's Wands. "I have some personal business I need to attend to and it is quite well known that finding the right Wand, takes its time."

Harry nodded in acceptance and watched as the Wizard walked off before turning and entering the run down looking building. Almost immediately Harry had to strengthen the shielding on his amulet to make sure that it didn't fail. He could feel the heightened level of influence from the world within this building.

Suddenly, without prompt or external reasoning, Harry spun around and raised his hands, static dancing across his fingers as he called upon The Force.

The man that had been approaching from behind stopped and backed up quickly at the sight of the arcing lightning that was running across the boy's hands, hands held up and open in surrender.

"Apologies Mr. Potter, I did not mean to startle you." The old man said amicably. "Impressive display of Wandless magic I must confess."

Harry frowned for a moment before realising that the man was making reference to the Force Lightning that he was still holding at the ready. With a forced sheepish expression, Harry lowered his arms and leaned back against the store's counter; feigning a bout of weakness as if he had tired himself out from the effort.

"I'm sorry sir." He said with a tired smile as he panted for breath briefly. "I was surprised."

"Think nothing of it." Ollivander waved the apology off with a large smile. "It certainly got my heart beating, and at this age, it's good to be reminded I'm still alive. Now then, I can only assume you are hear for your Wand Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded before tilting his head to the side in confusion. "Yes, but how do you know my name?"

Ollivander's smile softened at this; becoming tinged with sadness. "I remember every Wand I have ever sold Mr. Potter. I tell this to every young Wizard and Witch I meet. But what I don't tell them; is that I also remember every Wizard and Witch I sell to. And you have your mother's eyes."

Another detail to be filed away. Harry's green eyes were given to him by Lily.

As the boy took in this information Ollivander had walked around the counter and started pulling down a few dusty boxes from the shelves at the back of the store. "I remember it like it was yesterday; When Lily Evans came here to buy her first Wand. Willow, ten and a quarter inches. Nice for Charm work."

Walking back to the counter Ollivander placed the small stack of Wand boxes down before opening the top-most box and pulling out the Wand within before handing it to the young boy.

"Here, try this one."

Harry took the Wand.

And nothing happened.

Ollivander frowned in thought as he took the Wand back, looking at it carefully as if it were defective before returning it to its box and pulling out another.

"Perhaps this one; Walnut, nine and a half inches long with a Unicorn Hair at its core." The Wandmaker explained.

Again Harry accepted the Wand and gave it a small wave at the man's urge.

And again; nothing happened.

Ollivander's expression was now seemingly permanently set into a troubled frown. Even when attempting to use a Wand that had the most dreadful match to a wizard there was normally some kind of reaction; even if it was an equally bad one. For nothing to happen, as if the wizard had attempted to do magic through a garden variety stick? It was unheard of.

"Curious." The man mused as he took back the Wand. "Had I not seen that intriguing display of Wandless magic before, why I would have almost believed you to be a Squib Mr. Potter."

"A Squib?"

"Ah, my apologies." Ollivander said with a tight smile. "Someone born into magic without the ability to _use _magic."

Harry nodded in understanding. A Squib was just a non-magical born in a magical family. Personally he felt the distinction was quite discriminatory.

"Here, try this one."

Harry took the offered Wand but almost as quickly as it came into his hand; the Wandmaker took it back leaving the eleven year old to blink owlishly back at the old man.

"I must confess I find myself completely astonished." Ollivander commented as he started to collect the wands he had brought out and started to return them to their proper places on the shelves. "Never in the history of this shop has a wizard ever been unable to find a Wand. Until now. The fact that none of the three wands I offered you showed any signs of connection for good or ill tells me one thing; I do not believe you can use a Wand."

Harry frowned, that would be a problem. By his understanding; from what he had seen thus far, Wand use was essential within this society. It did not matter that technically he did not possess magic, the fact remained that in order to blend in and mingle amongst the people here; he _needed_ a Wand.

"So what now?"

Ollivander paused, looking down to the boy for a moment before turning his eyes away in thought. "The only thing I can think of to see you go to Hogwarts would be a custom made Wand. If we can determine what materials are best suited for your magical core then surely it should be possible to craft a focus that works in your hands."

The Sith-in-training nodded slowly, mulling over the offer. Truth was he did not even _have_ a 'magical core'. He would have died if his body had developed that kind of malignant tumor.

"Thank you for your offer Mr. Ollivander." Harry started with a brief smile. "But I will have to say no. I remember seeing some of my families wands when I was in Gringotts; I think I should be able to find a Wand that works for me there."

"Ah but you must remember Mr. Potter; the Wand chooses the Wizard." The Wandmaker pointed out. "You may very well find that the wands once used by your family have very much the same response as what we have seen here."

"In which case I will come back here and agree to your offer to make a custom Wand." Harry replied with a weak shrug. "I'd prefer not to have to spend the kind of money that would be needed for custom work if its not needed sir."

Ollivander understood and walked over to the door to his shop, opening it and stepping aside to allow the preteen to leave. "Well in that case I wish you good luck Mr. Potter in the event that you do not return."

Harry said his farewells and thanks and left Ollivanders to make his way back to Gringotts. Professor Quirrel was still absent; no doubt still doing whatever errand he had needed to get done, which left Harry time to get back down to his Vault and find a Wand to take with him. He could not give reason why, but he felt that he needed to get a Wand before Quirrel got back and thereby keep the man ignorant of his difficulty and inability to use a Wand.

Another, interesting conversation with a Goblin and Harry was taken back down into the Gringotts Mines to the Potter Family Vault. When he walked in Harry made a beeline straight to the shelf where he had first spotted a number of wands.

They were covered with dust, evidence that they had not been disturbed for many years; ever since their original owners had placed them here within the Vault.

And they were all labelled.

Horacio Potter; _Elm, 11 inches, Dragon Heartstring._

Artemis Potter nee Bones; _Acacia, 9 ½ inches, Unicorn Hair._

Charlus Potter; _Alder, 10 ¾ inches, Dragon Heartstring._

Dorea Potter nee Black; _Hawthorn, 12 inches, __Rougarou Hair._

Lily Potter nee Evans_; Willow, 10 ¼ inches, Phoenix Feather._

Harry stopped when he saw the last name. There was no connection for him to the Wand nor the person who had previously owned it beyond what he understood to be that she had been the woman to birth him.

Reaching out, he picked the Wand up from the shelf and wiped away at the dust that covered it. Like with the others at Ollivander's there was no reaction. He felt no connection or 'spark' from holding the Wand as Ollivander had seemed to be looking for. It was nothing more than a carved and engraved length of wood in his hands.

But it would do.

With the Wand in hand Harry made to leave the Vault when he stopped right on the threshold. He felt a, tug, a pull that urged him back. Turning to face the interior of the vault once more Harry narrowed his eyes as he called upon his connection to The Force. There; the smallest of lights in a field of darkness.

Following the 'light' he could sense; Harry approached the massive bookshelves at the far end of the Vault. Scanning the spines of the leather backed tomes Harry could see a number of titles for subject matter that appeared far more advanced than his first year textbooks such as _Moste Potente Potions. _However it was a small collection of red leather books, twice as thick as any other others tucked away on the highest shelf that drew his attention. Reaching for them through The Force; Harry pulled the first of the tomes down from its resting place and floated it gently down toward him. He could feel it, at the deepest corner of his mind; like a song that he knew intimately but couldn't quite place. A connection between himself and what he had found.

With a quite, subtle glance over his shoulder to where the Goblin that had brought him down here stood unseen, Harry tucked the book under and arm, and left the Vault.

XxxX

Quirrel had returned to Ollivander's only a couple of short minutes following Harrys' return. The Turban wearing Wizard had appeared troubled; both flustered and frustrated. Harry didn't care to assume what had been the cause of the man's mood, but figured that his 'errand' had not gone the way he had hoped.

With confirmation that Harry had his Wand, the Hogwarts Professor had returned Harry back to Glastonbury Tor and departed without a word after giving the boy his train ticket and a slip of parchment that had instructions on how to gain access to Platform 9 ¾.

Storing his new belongings away in his quarters and placing the book he had found in his family's vault with the mental note to examine it later, Harry made his way quickly to the cargo hold where he could sense his master waiting for him.

"_I see you did not die._" Bane commented lightly upon his apprentices entry. "_I feel I must congratulate you then. You have succeeded in creating quite a powerful Sith artefact._"

Harry bowed in response, idly reaching up to touch at where his amulet was hanging from his neck underneath his shirt. "It did its job well Master."

"_You have everything you need for your journey beyond this place?_"

"There was some difficulty collecting a Wand." Harry admitted with a brief frown. "Without what the magicals refer to as a 'magical core' I am unable to interface with the focus that they use to make use of their power and so I was unable to buy one from the shop that sells them. I was however able to find one in a bank vault under my family name. It will do as a suitable cover."

Bane nodded slowly. It was not unexpected. Those that were not Force Sensitives were unable to interface with artefacts that required a connection to The Force such as Holocrons; it stood to reason the same could be said on this wretched planet regarding the connection these Witches and Wizards had with their little sticks of wood.

"_Good. By my memory you have a month __until you are expected to leave for Hogwarts._" Bane said as he stood up from his usual perch. "_In the time we have, you will be training extensively with Taskmaster and myself. What little free time you have when not under the care of myself or that Droid would be best served sleeping._"

"But Master, I should probably go over the course books that I got today at Diagon Alley." Harry argued. "I feel it would be best that when I go to attend this Hogwarts that I have some understanding of the world I am entering."

"_Well then, my Apprentice._" Bane smiled darkly at this. "_You'd best learn how to read while dodging._"

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

**A/N**

**Alright then. So next chapter for this story is Hogwarts; starting off with the train ride.**

**We hope people enjoyed seeing Harry interact with Quirrel. We figured that given the fact that Harry has no ties to the magical world it made sense that Hogwarts should be sending an escort for him just like McGonogall does for all Muggleborn students. From there we went through a list of who could be the one to show Harry around Diagon Alley.**

**The only answer was of course the lord of turbans himself.**

**We have our own idea of how this Harry Potter World is going to be in regards to the world we have built on Earth. There will be slight differences from Canon as our world would have different consequences and side effects due to the origins and truth of magic here.**

…**.enjoy**


	7. First Steps into a Smaller World

_Disclaimer: The following story is a fan-made creation. I do not own Harry Potter, Star Wars or any other established fandom that may or may not occur. Please support the original material._

"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'_There is only Passion__'_ Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"_**With Passion I gain strength**_**!**" Holo-communication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

_Previously:_

"_I see you did not die." Bane commented lightly upon his apprentices entry. "I feel I must congratulate you then. You have succeeded in creating quite a powerful Sith artefact."_

_Harry bowed in response, idly reaching up to touch at where his amulet was hanging from his neck underneath his shirt. "It did its job well Master."_

"_You have everything you need for your journey beyond this place?"_

"_There was some difficulty collecting a Wand." Harry admitted with a brief frown. "Without what the Magical's refer to as a 'magical core' I am unable to interface with the focus that they use to make use of their power and so I was unable to buy one from the shop that sells them. I was however able to find one in a bank vault under my family name. It will do as a suitable cover."_

_Bane nodded slowly. It was not unexpected. Those that were not Force Sensitives were unable to interface with artefacts that required a connection to The Force such as Holocrons; it stood to reason the same could be said on this wretched planet regarding the connection these Witches and Wizards had with their little sticks of wood._

"_Good. By my memory you have a month until you are expected to leave for Hogwarts." Bane said as he stood up from his usual perch. "In the time we have, you will be training extensively with Taskmaster and myself. What little free time you have when not under the care of myself or that Droid would be best served sleeping."_

"_But Master, I should probably go over the course books that I got today at Diagon Alley." Harry argued. "I feel it would be best that when I go to attend this Hogwarts that I have some understanding of the world I am entering."_

"_Well then, my Apprentice." Bane smiled darkly at this. "You'd best learn how to read while dodging."_

XxxXxxXxxX

Locating and travelling to King's Cross on September 1st was not a difficult task. Taskmaster had assisted him in packing his belongings the night before into the archaic storage lockbox that the Magical's made use of; making sure that the eleven year old's personal effects were safely tucked away beneath a false bottom that had been installed. His Training-Saber, a Datapad that was connected to the '_Legacy's_' network and archives and a few Sith texts were safely hidden away there for Harry.

When the day came Harry had flagged down a cab that had been loitering on the curb by a nearby pub; dominating the mind of the driver into taking him to London. The boy wasn't all that equipped to pay the man in any real sense. The Wizarding currency he had on him was not at all compatible with the monetary format that was used outside of their insular little world after all.

Hence the mind control.

Harry was not all that sure if the non-magical side of King's Cross was under surveillance so he had forced the driver to load his luggage onto a Trolley while the boy himself played the part of the invalid by leaning against the side of the cab looking for all intents and purposes as if a strong breeze could blow him over.

When his belongings had been loaded and the enthralled driver had wheeled it over to the boy, Harry dismissed the man with a wave of his hand, taking a moment to place a small suggestion within his mind to return to the pub at Glastonbury and have a drink and forget the day.

As the cab pulled away and set off on the long return trip, Harry leaned himself against the Trolley as he started to push it forward.

According to Quirrel's instructions it was the pillar at the exact halfway point along the platform between track's nine and ten that was the entry to Platform 9 ¾. Rather stupid considering the platform name did not indicate ½.

Already Harry could see a couple of other small groups; families, passing through the apparently solid brick pillar ahead of him. There wasn't even any indication of these Magicals attempting to be subtle about it. These people where just charging at the wall in full view of everyone.

And yet somehow, despite the clear and full show of people 'magically' disappearing as they ran into this pillar between Platform's nine and ten, not a single man woman or child seemed to take any notice.

Harry simply shook his head. At this point he could only surmise that a perception barrier had been put in place around the entry. Something that prevented any and all non-magicals from having any awareness of the strange behavior as well as the sudden and unexplained vanishing acts.

When the last family, a group of ragged looking red-heads passed through, Harry aligned himself with the barrier and ambled his way through. Running was a pointless action for this. It made no sense whatsoever to require a set speed in order to pass through.

The feeling, as he passed through the barrier and found himself transported across an unknown distance to where Platform 9 ¾ was _really _located, was revolting. Even with the amulet around his neck it felt like he had just passed through raw sewage and somehow stepped out still clean and smelling no worse.

Forcing his stomach down and briefly covering his mouth with a hand, Harry fought down the urge to vomit and continued onward.

The gleaming red steam engine earned nothing more than a raised eyebrow from the pre-teen as he approached the rear most carriage. Considering he had passed through what was essentially a portal he had been almost expecting something equally as magical. But an actual Train? Shiny and clean; possibly maintained and cared for through magical means, but a Train nonetheless. What was the point?

In the end, Harry cleared his mind of the bewilderment. The illogical nature of these people was best left with them. From what he could both see and sense through The Force the students were filling the train starting from the front most carriage, which meant that the rear of the Train was still unoccupied. This allowed the boy to enter, find a compartment and load his belongings without needing to concern himself with any witnesses.

Seating himself, Harry manipulated The Force to close the door to his compartment and draw the blinds shut. With any luck the milling Magicals would assume that the compartment was already occupied and pass it by; leaving him to his peace.

A moment of silence within the compartment before Harry turned back to his belongings and pulled out a book before returning to his seat and flipping it open to the page he had last visited the night before.

_**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.**_

XxxX

The journey out of the station and London toward Hogwarts was, boring. There was no arguing this fact. It was boring. What amounted to an entire day of travel starting from Glastonbury Tor to London and then London to Hogwarts, Harry had wasted so much time that could have been spent in several different ways to further himself. He could have continued his lessons under Taskmaster or Master Bane, maybe furthered his knowledge of Sith secrets in the Legacy. But no, he had instead spent all this time in a small box surrounded by foolish and simple children that were far to curious and obnoxious for their own good; thereby preventing him from even pulling out his Datapad lest his risk discovery.

He really did wish that he was back home in the _Legacy,_ not here as his Master wished.

But he was, and that was all there was to it really.

The boy could feel the Train slowing down and the minds of the students nearby becoming more active and excited. They had _finally_ arrived at their destination.

"First Years! First Years this way!"

A thick, heavily accented voice belonging to that large man Hagrid that Harry recalled meeting, however briefly, at the Leaky Cauldron called out from outside as the Train came to a full and complete stop.

An announcement had been broadcasted five minutes prior to their arrival to inform first year students of what to do upon arrival regarding their belongings. According to the information provided; students were to leave their Trunks in the Train which would be brought into the castle by a third party and sent to their respective houses and Dormitories.

The very same broadcast had also advised students to change into their school robes which was the _only _reason why Harry was wearing the utterly ridiculous and cumbersome apparel. The closest comparison to these Wizarding Robes that Harry knew of was the attire of a Jedi and even then those were more in order to present an unassuming, docile image that could be quickly and easily removed in combat situations.

The less that was said about the pointed hat on his head the better.

The boy allowed himself to get lost within the crowd of students as he made his way over to where the large bearded man was ushering the rest of the first years. He held tight to his elevated annoyance as he allowed the older boys and girls to push him about as they all moved along, heedless of his own presence.

Three times Harry had to fight himself and relax his hands when he felt The Force rise up within him when a particularly rough nudge nearly tripped him up. Or when some vapid, gossiping girl trod on his toes while in mid conversation with her friends.

It would be oh so easy to just fry these tiny, insignificant people. Just one burst of-

No. Harry bit down on his anger. Forcing the impulsive desires down and forcing his emotional state to disconnect from The Force; stopping that Dark Side 'engine' from engaging.

When Harry did finally reach the destination that Hagrid had been directing him and the other first years to the boy felt a vein at his forehead throb as his mounting frustration grew ever so slightly.

Boats. What in the name of galactic sanity was the need for boats to get to the castle that could be seen situated on the far side of the large lake before him? Only the first years were here, giving strong implication to the fact that _this was not the only way to get to the castle!_ Was it a power play? Some kind of psychological ploy designed to instil a sense of wonder and perhaps intimidation within new students? There could be some merit for that, curb any potential rebellious behaviour in troublesome students from the offset by making them feel immediately small against the grand and distant Hogwarts.

Movement. Harry tore his attention away from the lake and the distant Hogwarts as well as his theories as to the _why_ this lake trip was necessary when he noticed that the other children his age were climbing into the waiting boats. No more than four to each one with the massive Hagrid already seated in his alone.

With a frown, still idly wishing that this ultimately pointless endeavour could have been avoided, Harry found an empty one and climbed in, deliberately seating himself so that his back would be facing the castle when they started moving.

The young Sith paid no heed to the other three bodies that clambered into the boat after him. Idly noting only that one of them had a particularly unique shade of blonde hair that stood apart from the others, before he closed his eyes and eased himself into a trance.

He needed to calm himself down.

The extended amount of time had frayed his control and allowed his emotional state to get the better of him. Something that was, not only unacceptable, but a failing that Master Bane would not forgive lightly.

He felt the moment when the boat departed from the shoreline, feeling the tiniest of pulses of cancerous magic as it started to move in the direction of the castle. He could absently hear fervent, hushed, whispers from the others around him, all affected by the atmosphere the boat ride had instilled and the visual sight of the castle nearing and then looming overhead as the boats crossed the lake.

Harry felt the disturbance beneath him, deep within the water of a large creature. No apparent aggression or sign of predatory instincts aimed even in his general direction, so nothing to be overly concerned with.

He managed to regain his control and re-center himself in time for when the boats reached the other side of the lake and Hagrid instructed everyone to disembark.

Harry took in his immediate surroundings as the giant man _finally _lead the first years up and into the castle through tired looking eyes. Occasionally stumbling in his steps and even slowing to the point were more than one impatient first year, quite rudely, pushed passed him.

Idly the young Sith found it amusing how easy it was to find himself at the back of the group with so many defenceless, exposed backs facing him.

Did these Magicals teach their children nothing of potential threats?

His entire life had been based upon the knowledge that the world, the galaxy, was filled with people and things that would gladly enjoy his death and/or suffering. Master Bane, Taskmaster, even Mad-Med had focused significant time into teaching him how to watch out for and handle such things. Harry could not fathom the 'hows' or 'whys' involved that would result in his would-be classmates just, well, not knowing any of this.

There was never a time back home where he could show such blatant disregard and comfort like what he was seeing. Taskmaster thrived in those moments of weakness.

Harry felt that his point was well made when he felt a shift in The Force as a block of stone on the steps that he and the other First years were ascending vanished briefly. The emerald eyed boy flicked his gaze, however briefly over in the direction of the vanished step, raising an eyebrow in faint interest when The Force shifted once more and the step returned. Had the stone vanished in the path of these children there could have been quite an incident given how oblivious they all were.

Everyone came to a stop toward the summit of the steps, Harry peering through the others ahead of him, and stepping to the side as the stone beneath his feet vanished without warning, to see Hagrid talking to an elderly looking woman with a stern, no-nonsense expression on her face.

The hairy giant gave one last smile down to the children, briefly winking to someone at the front of the group before stomping off and leaving the first years in the custody of this woman.

"My name, is Professor McGonagall. Allow me to be one of the first to welcome you to Hogwarts." The woman introduced clearly. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will need to be first sorted into your houses. For the duration of your stay here, your House will be very similar to a family. You will attend classes with your housemates, sleep within your respective House dormitories and free time will be spent in one of the four common rooms associated to each House. These Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House is home to its own proud and noble history and has seen many a great wizard and witch pass through. During your time here at Hogwarts your success will earn your House points, while your failure and any, rule-breaking, will see your House lose points."

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had little interest in something as, pointless as 'House Points.' he very much doubt there was any long lasting effects that would reach beyond these walls to be concerned with and even then, these people and their society was so small it was more or less non-existent beyond their own planet's atmosphere.

Soon enough the collection of First Years started moving again as Professor McGonagall turned and lead them all into the Great Hall.

Possibly the first thing Harry noticed as he passed through the large oak doors and into the Great Hall was its ceiling. Admittedly it was an impressive piece of magic; the ceiling and roof of the hall appearing to be completely transparent and showing the starry night sky with the occasional wisp of cloud wafting through. Harry had been taught about such materials like Transparisteel; a metallic alloy that was completely see-though. But this was nothing like that. The means to manufacture Transparisteel required a level of technology that nothing on this world had even dreamed of reaching yet. There was no possible way that a technologically repressed culture could do it without the use of their _magic._

So interested in the workings of the roof, a small part of his mind attempting to reverse engineer the mechanics behind it based upon what limited knowledge he had gathered on the workings of Magic thus far, that Harry missed majority of the goings on before him.

Harry recalled a faintly interesting reaction when a particular name; 'Longbottom Neville' was called as he continued his examination of the roof. A wave of hushed whispers and pointing from those seated at the four long tables that ran the length of the Great Hall. A rather pudgy looking boy with a vivid scar the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead shuffling up to the bench where Professor McGonagall place a, a hat? On his head.

Harry dismissed it from his thoughts. Unimportant, irrelevant. Most likely related to this Sorting that Professor McGonagall had alluded to and, if so, something he would find out about when his name was called.

"Potter, Harry!"

Hearing his name finally called, the called upon boy tore his gaze from the ceiling and approached the stool that Professor McGonagall was standing next to. She was holding up a filthy looking hat that very well appeared as it if was locked in time moments before falling apart. There was an admittedly large concentration of mutated Force imbued within and without this hat. It was so very close to the kind of concentration that Harry had become familiar with whenever Master Bane materialised back home.

Off in the peripheral of his vision; seated at the head table, Harry spotted Professor Quirrell there, looking down to him. The turban wearing man had an almost imperceptible smirk on his face as he met his eyes before turning away to speak with another Professor to his side. It would seem that the man was pleased with the image that Harry was able to currently project as he eased himself down onto the stool. Harry could feel the light concern wafting from Professor McGonagall at his apparent weakness.

The ratty looking hat came down over his head and partially covered his eyes as it settled.

'_Oh my, this is quite a different experience._'

Any humor or peaceful curiosity felt by the young Sith vanished like ice on Mustofar the moment he heard that voice rattle around from within his head. Harry drew The Force in tight to him, his mind sharpening to a razor's edge and more than a dozen methods of violence and prolonged pain coming to his mind as possible avenue's to expel this intruder.

'_There's no need for that. Whatever you have that keeps your mind shielded prevents me as well. The best I can do right now is speak only._' The Hat assured, a quiver of fear passing through the vocal tones of the scrap of fabric as it 'felt' the pain and suffering that its current wearer was preparing to unleash.

"And do you read the minds of all Hogwarts students when sorting them?" Harry muttered under his breath, barely a whisper as he turned his gaze upward toward the hat, his eyes flickering yellow as he fought down the rising Dark Side within him.

'_It is how the Sorting works._' The Hat replied quickly. '_In order to assign a House to new students I look over their minds to determine dominant and potential personality traits. Gryffindor primarily suits courage, Hufflepuff __supports loyalty and dedication, Ravenclaw holds to those with a keenness to further knowledge and understanding while Slytherin is a den for those of ambition._'

Harry brought himself under control and eased up on his hold over The Force; accepting the reasoning behind the Hat's actions. "And you are unable to properly intrude on my mind?"

'_The best I can do is tell that you actually have a mind. Nothing more._'

Harry breathed out a silent sigh of relief. The amulet he had created was turning out to be even more valuable than he had initially believed. To be able to actually shield his mind from prying magic was a fortunate if unforeseen boon. He would have to investigate at one point to learn how it handled mental manipulation through The Force when he had the chance.

'_AS it stands, if I am unable to enter your mind to gather the information I need, I must resort to accepting your choice in which house to sort you._'

"I can just pick one myself?"

To the onlookers of the Great Hall the Hat seemed to shrug in response to the undetectable conversation going on between itself and the first year that was wearing it. '_There is an element of choice for all students when being sorted. Very rarely does a student go into a house out of choice rather than my own judgement. Mainly due to the fact that majority of the young wizards and witches that attend here are quite willing to allow me to control the decision entirely._'

Harry said nothing, considering the decision to be made instead. If he was to be solely responsible for the House he was to be assigned to with no input from this 'Sorting Hat' then it needed to be carefully considered. He would, ultimately, have no-one to blame but himself later on if something went wrong.

Gryffindor was a house of courage and from what he could feel from those who sat at their table, their minds were filled with a sense of recklessness and short sighted impulsiveness that really did not appeal to Harry at all.

Hufflepuff; loyalty and dedication. From a more direct and altruistic standpoint these were not traditional Sith traits. And a quick probe into the minds of some of the older students painted a far less appealing image. Judgemental, stubborn and a pack mentality that rested on a knife's edge.

Slytherin. The house of ambition and if what he could sense held any weight to it; a slight sense of cunning and intelligence. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff both held shadier thoughts toward this house. Thoughts of distrust and in some cases; barely concealed hostility.

Ravenclaw. A house filled with students who desired knowledge and valued learning above other, more social, experiences found in a school setting. Harry could feel a sense of competitiveness from many of them; a desire to outdo their fellow Housemates and no small amount of pride in connection to what they each knew.

Hmm. Ravenclaw. It was a house he could quite easily get lost in and become unnoticed. Gryffindor would take a very clear notice of his studious intentions just as Hufflepuff would refuse to leave him alone out of an annoying sense of camaraderie and Slytherin would foolishly assume he was one to take advantage of after seeing his mask.

"Ravenclaw works well enough." Harry muttered, still keeping his voice to the level where not even Professor McGonagall could hear him from her position less than a foot and a half away from him.

'_Are you sure?_'

Harry gave a swift, almost nonexistent nod in reply. Ravenclaw would serve its purpose. In that house he would be able to sufficiently enough conceal his inability to perform magic and his mask of weakness would be further amplified with the academic guise of a 'bookworm.'

'_Very well then..._'

"RAVENCLAW!"

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N**

**So we are trying to get back into the swing of things in updating stories despite the 'Covid-Crisis'. With public places like libraries closed it has made it difficult for the two of us to get together to pump out work. We have sorted out something to get us through so hopefully we can maintain some discipline and stay attentive to the chapters to come out.**

**This chapter isn't all that long considering but as this is more a 'transition' chapter, we feel that there's not all that much content to put in. we try not to write too short a chapter but in reality our chapter length is only as long or short as it needs to be to fit the tone and flow of the story as a whole.**

**One of the things we wanted to point out in this chapter is how different Harry's upbringing is from all the other 'magical' boys and girls. His mindset is far less relaxed and casual than theirs and at this point he is very much Sith.**

**Not sure what will be updated next so for those who are reading our other works just keep an eye out.**


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